


Masks

by skypirateb



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skypirateb/pseuds/skypirateb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting at a party brings Persephone into contact with Hades, a tall dark and handsome dreamboat she can't stop thinking about. As their relationship deepens, both are forced to grapple with the question of what they really want from their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much to eveninganna, daasvedanya, and saturninepen for acting as betas. 
> 
> Now complete!

Persephone had never been anywhere so fancy in her life. She could hardly believe their luck when the doorman, after scrutinising the invitation for much longer than he had the people in front of them, waved them through the door. Giddy giggles bubbled in her throat as she and Dionysus swanned through to the glittering crowd. Dionysus was much better at keeping his composure than Persephone, but he gasped along with her when they reached the ballroom.

  
The ceiling rose high above them to a dome. Several chandeliers hung so far down it looked as though they were floating. The room was filled with a pale golden light that matched the champagne that servers were whisking around on silver trays. All the men were in white tie and all the women were swathed in voluminous dresses, each one a different colour. Dionysus nudged her ribs with his elbow, and pointed to a lady who was in a floor-length ivory gown with a luscious fur stole wrapped around her shoulders.

  
“Talk about how the other half live,” Persephone said weakly. She felt silly in her bubblegum pink dress that fell only to her knees. It wasn’t even hers. She had borrowed it from the costume closet at Dionysus’ theatre. It had been used in a production of _The Great Gatsby_ , and the edges of the tulle layers were torn and grubby. Dionysus drew himself up admirably, looking elegantly rotund in the purple velour suit he had also pilfered for the night. He swept a hand back through his lacquer-black curls.

  
“Now now, Petunia,” he said, in a voice haughtier than his own, “we mustn’t allow ourselves to be troubled by all this pomp and circumstance.”

  
Persephone giggled, and suddenly it was all right. She wasn’t Persephone tonight—she was Petunia Hollingsberry, daughter of a wealthy vineyard magnate, and escorting her was her dear wine connoisseur cousin Crispin Brisket, the Man of Ten Thousand Taste Buds. She stood up a little straighter and poked her shoulders out. “You’re right, Crispin,” she said in a posh, nasal accent. “Why, Daddy’s parties must be ten times grander than this!”

  
They strutted towards the band, curious looks following in their wake. Persephone wondered whether this was because they looked so out of place, or because they looked so fabulous, or because no-one here had ever laid eyes on them before. Well, except for one person.

  
Half a dozen people were scattered around the floor close to the band, watching them with polite interest. They were a string quartet, composed of three ladies and a young man. They seemed to be finishing the set, as they were all carving out a furious crescendo with their bows. When they ended on a flourish, the gathered audience clapped urbanely. One of the violinists stepped forwards.

  
“Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “We will be taking a short interval before we return with our beautiful vocalist.” He bowed charmingly, and skipped off the small stand to where Persephone and Dionysus were waiting. “You got in!” He beamed at them.

  
“’Course,” Dionysus sniffed. “What, did you think they’d given you a fake invitation or something?”

  
“No, I thought they’d try to bar you from entering.” He tossed his head so that his sandy hair flicked gracefully out of his amber eyes. “Did you even look in a mirror before you dressed yourself, D?”

  
“Oho,” Dionysus chuckled, turning to Persephone, “cheeky little shit for someone who wants a bed to come home to tonight, isn’t he?”

  
Persephone rolled her eyes, smiling. “You all sounded great, Polly,” she said. “All those extra rehearsals are paying off.”

  
“ _I_ think so,” Apollo said, casting a superior look back at Dionysus, who snorted. “And wait ‘til you you hear Polyhymnia, I mean, she’s always sounded angelic, but now she sounds like a whole chorus of angels!”

  
“Did Artemis make it?”

  
Apollo’s smile faltered slightly. “No, actually. But I mean,” he added quickly, “she’s so busy with the shelter and the Arktoi lately, it isn’t that surprising…”

  
“Oh yes, by the way,” Dionysus said, tactfully changing the subject before Apollo had a chance to start brooding, “you must call us Crispin and Petunia tonight.”

  
Apollo straightened up, bowed, and kissed the back of Persephone’s hand. “Petunia, my dear, how _good_ it is to see you again.” Persephone curtsied with a giggle. Apollo turned to Dionysus. “And Crispin, old chap!” He and Dionysus exchanged flamboyant cheek kisses. “How delighted I am that you could come all this way!”

  
“Yes, well,” Dionysus said, affecting Crispin’s pompous voice again, “it’s been ever so long since we were out this way, and you know, I’ve been _dying_ to see how you all do these kind of get-togethers all the way out here.”

  
“You simply _must_ try the vol-au-vent,” Apollo said. “And the bruschetta is delightful.”

  
“Well, _quite_ ,” Dionysus said. He took a prop pocket watch out of his waistcoat, and pretended to check the time. “We must be getting on now,” he said, “we wouldn’t want to deprive everyone else from the delights of our company.”

  
Apollo waved them away with a cheery grin and returned to his violin. “I didn’t realise they were doing so well,” Persephone whispered. “Did you?”

  
Dionysus shrugged, then shook his head, and did not elaborate.

  
The evening passed in a shimmery, golden, champagne-fuelled haze. Dionysus, under the influence of the wine, transformed out of his apathetic, sarcastic daytime persona and into the magnetic, gregarious Dionysus who was the life of every party he attended and stole every scene he acted in. When she wasn’t dancing with everyone who asked her, Persephone clung to Dionysus’ elbow, trying to keep up with his superb improvisation, the champagne bubbles rising rapidly to her head.

  
“Of course, after _that_ fiasco,” Dionysus—or, rather, Crispin—was saying, “it’s an absolute _wonder_ Petunia and I were _ever_ allowed out on our own again! But then, perhaps it isn’t such a wonder. Petunia here has always been the absolute baby of the family, whatever she asks for uncle always jumps to get for her. Isn’t that right, Pet?”

  
“As if you’ve ever complained, Crispy!” Persephone giggled. The champagne had made her head feel all fuzzy, and her stomach was starting to turn strangely.

  
Dionysus studied her for a fraction of a second. “You look as if you could do with some fresh air, dear.” He placed his hand lovingly on her arm. “I insist,” he added forcefully.

  
Persephone thought that was quite a good idea. Her hair was feeling too hot for her head, and she was starting to sweat in odd places. “Right,” she said. She stood up abruptly. “Where’s the door?” She tottered off across the floor. Dionysus gently steered her around the other way and pointed her towards the double doors that lead out into a garden.

  
“Poor dear, she’s so used to the country air!” She heard him say as she wended her way towards the doors.

  
It was suddenly occurring to her just how drunk she was. She pushed past people carelessly, her sweaty hand slipped on the door handle, and then she burst out into the cold night air.

  
There was a wide patio ending in flagged stone steps that lead down to a vast garden. Persephone paced back and forth along the top step, mastering her urge to lean over the marble banister and vomit into the boxwood bushes.

  
When her stomach seemed sufficiently settled, she perched on the step, shivering in the chilly air. It was autumn, or near enough to it that the nights were cooling down. From what she could see of the garden it was kept well manicured, though she suspected she wouldn’t find anything deciduous here. No, for this crowd it would be all evergreens, to ensure that whoever came here would enjoy the decor year round.

  
The door opened behind her, but she had little interest in going back inside. Audible footsteps were drawing closer. She was turning around to tell Dionysus she was going to be fine, and that she would stay out here a little longer, when she saw it wasn’t him at all.

  
“I’m—Oh.” She flushed. “Excuse me, I thought you were someone else.”

  
The man who had approached looked equally startled. “My apologies,” he said quickly, “I didn’t think anyone would be out here. I’ll leave you in peace.”

  
“No, no, you don’t have to,” Persephone said, just as quickly. The man stopped in his tracks. “I mean, I only came out here to get some air. I don’t—I wouldn’t mind the company, if you want to stay.” He hesitated. Persephone took this for a moment of weakness, and patted the cool stone beside her. “I won’t bite. And I will try really hard not to throw up on you.”

  
The comment slipped out before she could stop it. Persephone bit her tongue hard—she had never been able to manage not spitting out whatever popped into her head in a moment—but rather than scare him off, the man laughed. It was a sheepish, almost guilty laugh, and she didn’t miss the way he looked over his shoulder, as if expecting a reprimand. It made her heart race a little. There was something unbearably sweet about it. “Well, how could I say no, then?” And he dropped down on the stair beside her.

  
“I can’t believe how stuffy it was in there,” she said. “But maybe that was the drink.”

  
“Possibly. But then, there are other factors at play as well.” Persephone frowned, but instead of elaborating, he said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you visiting?”

  
“Well…” She glanced over her shoulder at the glittering ballroom. It was so strange in there, like another world entirely. Petunia’s world. Out here, even in meticulously cultivated gardens, she was back in the mundane. She was Persephone again. “Can I tell you something?”

  
Intrigued, the stranger raised his eyebrows. “Of course.”

  
Persephone leaned in towards him. Now that she was getting a closer look at him, she could see his square jawline and prominent nose. He was quite handsome, she decided, in a manly sort of way. She took a deep breath before she whispered, “I don’t think I should be here.”

  
“Oh?” His eyebrows, tidy dark swoops across his brow, raised even further. “Did you, ah, gatecrash?”

  
She shook her head. “One of my friends is playing in the band,” she said, “and he was allowed invitations for a couple of people. So me and another friend came along, but we don’t really mix with this crowd, and I was kinda nervous about coming here, so my friend, he’s an actor, he had this idea…” She told him about the invented personae of Petunia and Crispin, and how she and Dionysus had been roleplaying all night. Rather than coming over grim, the man laughed.

  
“Well, I hardly think you don’t belong,” he said, smiling. “I’m sure Petunia is much more real than many of the people in that room.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Besides, if you had an invitation, you have as much right to be here as anyone.”

  
Persephone grinned bashfully. “Well, yeah, but everything in there is like something out of a fairytale or a movie to me.”

  
“I take it then that you are not the daughter of a vineyard magnet?”

  
She laughed. “No. My mother owns a nursery. Y’know, for plants. I work there part-time. What about you?”

  
“I’m afraid they are rather more my people, I suppose,” he said, casting a wary look back towards the ballroom. “Though I rather—Good grief, you’re shivering!” He hastily pulled off his tail coat, ignoring Persephone’s protests, and draped it over her shoulders. “Don’t worry about me, I was over-heating with it on anyway.”

  
Persephone blushed lightly, and clutched the jacket close. It was warm from his body heat, and she could detect a whiff of his cologne on the collar. Warmth flowed through her, not all of it from the coat. Now that he was only in a shirt, Persephone could see the outline of his broad shoulders and chest better. His Adam’s apple bobbed at the top of his high collar, just above the tight bow tie around his neck. She bit her lip. “Do you know what time it is?” she asked, desperate to find a way to spin the conversation out longer.

  
He checked a medallion-sized watch. “A little after midnight. Are you turning back into a pumpkin, Petunia?”

  
Persephone laughed. “No, back into myself!”

  
“And who is ‘yourself’?” he asked, a little slyly. Persephone smiled at him.

  
“I’m Persephone,” she replied softly. “And you?”

  
“I’m Hades.” He held out a hand. He was wearing white gloves, the kind Persephone thought only movie stars from the ‘50s and Mickey Mouse wore. “Pleased to meet you.” She shook his hand, unable to keep from grinning.

  
At that moment, the door opened behind them. “Seph are you feeling—Oh.” Dionysus stopped in his tracks. He took the scene in, then turned to Persephone. “I take it you are feeling better then.”

  
Persephone let go of Hades’ hand quickly. “Are we off, then?” she said, in a forcefully casual voice.

  
Dionysus nodded. “’Polls has finished up and we’re going for drinks. Unless you’d rather sta—”

  
“No no, I’ll, um, I’ll be there in a sec, I’ll meet you out the front?” Persephone said hurriedly. Dionysus looked from her crimson cheeks, to the strange man standing beside her, to the jacket over her shoulders. He raised an eyebrow at her.

  
“All right.” And then he was gone.

  
“Friend of yours?” Hades said. Persephone could sense the same forced-casual tone in his voice.

  
“Yes,” she said. “That’s not-Crispin.”

  
“Ah.” He smiled shyly. “It was lovely to talk with you, Persephone.”

  
“You too.” She shrugged the coat off her shoulders and handed it back to him. She hesitated as he took it in his hand. He looked carefully at her face.

  
“When you return something to someone, the general practice is to let go of the object in question,” he prompted. Persephone started.

  
“S-Sorry!” She blushed. “Look, um, do you have a pen on you?”

  
Hades looked bemused, but he fished a pen out of the inside of his coat pocket. Persephone took the cap off with her teeth and pulled the glove off his right hand. She scrawled her phone number on his skin as best she could before handing the pen back to him. “Call me, won’t you?” she said breathlessly.

  
Hades stared at her, startled, for a few moments. “If I can,” he said, very softly.

  
Flushed and giddy, Persephone found Apollo and Dionysus waiting for her beside the minivan Apollo and the girls used to get around in.

  
“Get in,” Apollo said through a large yawn. “There should be plenty of room.”

  
Dionysus said nothing, but he watched Persephone closely as she clambered ungracefully into the van, and then dozed on her shoulder as they drove home.


	2. Chapter 2

To her great disappointment, Hades didn’t call the next day. He didn’t call the day after that, either, and by Monday evening Persephone was starting to give up on him.  
  


On Tuesday morning, she was woken by her phone buzzing furiously. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, she squinted at the screen. An unknown number. She yawned and answered, trying to force herself to sound awake.  
  


“Hello?”  
  


“Ah, hello, is that Persephone?”  
  


“Yeah.” Her heart started to race. “Who’s this?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.  
  


“Er, it’s Hades? We met the other night…”  
  


It was all she could do to keep from squealing down the phone at him. “I remember,” she said, grinning. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t call.”  
  


“My apologies, I’ve, ah, been a little busy.” When he spoke next, she could hear the smile in his voice. “But I couldn’t help at least speaking to you again.”  
  


Persephone came over very warm. “I mean, how could you resist a drunken hot mess?” she teased.  
  


He laughed: a soft chuckle that was mostly air. “I wouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” he said. “After all, your dress was still intact and there was only one smudge on your makeup.”  
  


Persephone giggled, breathless. He had checked her out close enough to see her makeup. “So why did you call so early in the morning?”  
  


There was a pause. “Is it early? My watch says it’s seven minutes past ten.”  
  


“Is it? Shoot, now you’re going to think I’m lazy…”  
  


Another laugh. “I would never make such an ungenerous assumption about someone I’ve only spoken to once,” he said.  
  


Persephone knew an opening when she saw one. “Well, maybe you should take the time to get to know me better before you jump to conclusions?” She knew she sounded a little too hopeful, but he was the one who had called _her_ , after all.  
  


Hades paused again, much longer this time. When he spoke, it was in the same quiet voice he had used the other night when he promised to call her. “I would like that,” he said. “I would like that very much.”  
  


Persephone’s heart pounded harder. There was a seriousness in his tone she hadn’t been expecting. “Well, would you like to meet for coffee or something?” she said, her mouth dry.  
  


“I would.” Another pause. “Tomorrow?” She could hear the same hopeful tone in his voice that she had in hers. Immediately she felt a pang of guilt; she had work tomorrow.  
  


“Tomorrow isn’t good,” she said. “But what about Thursday?”  
  


“Yes? Well, would a quarter past twelve be all right?” Then, as if he was rushing to get the words out before his nerve left him, “Or would that be too early in the morning for you?”  
  


Persephone laughed, her cheeks burning. “No, that’s perfect.” He gave her the directions to a coffee shop near his work, which Persephone was pleased to know was only a short walk from her mid-town bus stop.  
  


“Well,” he said finally, “I shall see you in two days?”  
  


“Yes,” Persephone said, grinning. “You ‘shall’.”  
  


And for the next day and a half she was utterly useless for anything that wasn’t mooning over the tall, dark, and handsome (almost) stranger. She got caught out at work, staring off into space as the potted tree she was watering overflowed and leaked water into her shoes.  
  


“Persephone!”  
  


She jumped and dropped the hose. It skittered across the cobblestones, splashing her manager with water. “Mama!” She scrambled to grab the hose before it flooded any of the small potted saplings. “S-Sorry!”  
  


Demeter, Persephone’s mother and proprietor of the plant nursery where she worked, frowned. “You had better sweep up that mess,” she said, gesturing to the mucky water that was swirling on the ground. “Things need to be tidy so people know the plants are looked after.”  
  


“Yes, of course. Sorry, I just got… distracted…” She wasn’t keen to say what had distracted her. For all the freedom Persephone had, any mention of a new (maybe) boyfriend brought out the steely side in her mother.  
  


“Well, once you’ve finished sweeping you can move onto re-potting the saplings along the east walk.” Demeter smiled wryly. “You’ll have a much harder time getting distracted doing something like that.”  
  


The broom they used to sweep the cobbles was large with stiff bristles. Persephone’s biceps quickly began to ache, which made her wish she had Mr Tall Dark and Handsome to do the sweeping for her. Her cheeks flushed at the thought, and she sheepishly swept up not only the water and soil she had spilt, but the whole west walk as a kind of _mea culpa_.  
  


Despite Demeter’s hopes, however, the re-potting she had assigned Persephone was still not engaging enough to keep her focused. After she had accidentally re-potted the same sapling back into its original pot three times, Persephone found herself moved onto the cash register by her exasperated mother to stop her staring vacantly into thin air.  
  


She dithered about whether she should share the new developments about Mr Coat Tails and Bow Tie with any of her friends. Her and D always shared both trials and triumphs when it came to their love lives, but on the other hand, she didn’t have anything to tell. Hades had called her, but she still wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t hallucinated that, and anyway, there was a nagging feeling in her stomach that was holding her back. Yes, Hades was handsome, and polite, and had an adorable laugh. But there had been something hesitant in his manner that she couldn’t shake or find a satisfactory explanation for. _He’s probably just nervous_ , she told herself over and over again, even though it did nothing to silence the tug in her stomach.  
  


By the time quarter past twelve on Thursday rolled around, Persephone still hadn’t confided in anyone. She rode the bus into town by herself, reasoning that she could always drop by to see Dionysus afterwards.  
  


It was a fine day, though there was an autumnal chill in the air. When she got into town, the pavements were thronging with people: workers out for lunch, parents and grandparents tugging spirited children along, and strategically placed volunteers collecting money for the local dog rescue society. Hades was already waiting for her as she approached the café, checking his watch and craning to see over the lunchtime crowds rushing past him. Persephone grinned. She dashed up to him while he was looking the other way, and slapped his shoulder playfully. “Here I am!”  
  


He jumped, but recovered admirably. “There you are indeed!” He smiled warmly. In the daylight she could see his eyes were the sparkling, clear blue Persephone had seen on ice floes when she had watched nature documentaries about the Arctic. She could also see that he was at least ten years older than her, but she quickly pushed that to the side.  
  


They stared at each other stupidly for long enough that even Persephone felt it was getting awkward. “Let’s go in, then!” she chirped.  
  


“Right!” Hades looked flustered. “Excuse me, I’ve had a hectic morning…” He opened the door to the café for her, and they stood in line to order.  
  


When Persephone had ordered her usual drink along with a strawberry tart the size of her fist, she found them a spare table right beside the window in the midday sun. Hades slid into the seat across from her, a scone and a small butter packet on his plate. “Did you have a busy day yesterday?” he asked as he began to cut the scone in half.  
  


“Yes, I had to work all day, so there was plenty to do.”  
  


“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You work at a nursery, correct? I wouldn’t think there would be much to do at this time of year.”  
  


“Oh, there’s _always_ work!” She launched into an explanation about autumn planting and harvesting, stopping only when the barista delivered their drinks. As she started pouring sugar packets into her drink, Hades fiddled with his teaspoon.  
  


“Ah… Persephone?” he said. “There’s, ah, something I’d like to tell you.”  
  


Persephone was currently sucking frothy milk off her spoon. “Mmm?”  
  


“It’s… quite important.” His tone gave her pause. He was using that soft voice again, the one that made the nagging feeling in her stomach start going. Persephone placed the spoon on her saucer.  
  


“You have my full attention,” she said.  
  


“I just wanted to check—to tell you, rather—I just, I don’t want you getting the wrong impression, or—”  
  


Persephone smiled warmly, despite the sickening pull in her gut. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”  
  


“Well, it isn’t a secret, I just…” He struggled for several moments, then sighed. “I’m married,” he said, quietly.  
  


Persephone felt like ice water had suddenly cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. “…Oh.”  
  


“I… I hope I haven’t been leading you on or anything?” Hades looked genuinely concerned. “I thought it was better just to tell you, just in case I had—”  
  


“No, no, it’s fine!” Persephone said, forcing a cheerful tone even though her heart was sinking. “I’m just a little curious about why you asked me out, is all.”  
  


Hades sighed. “The truth is, I’ve been rather lonely lately.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I’m not very good at making or keeping friends, and, well… I enjoyed your company the other night, even if it was only for a short while…”  
  


Persephone smiled, much more genuinely this time. “I understand. I’m an only child, so.” She leaned closer to him across the table. “I’d love to be friends with you, Hades.”  
  


Of course, now that he had said he was married, her eyes kept straying to the heavy ring on his left hand. It looked less like a ring and more like a knuckle duster; she wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before. She spent some time mulling over this before she remembered: he had been wearing gloves when they had met.  
  


They traded facts and anecdotes about one another—Persephone learnt that Hades had a twin sister, owned a dog that was more or less his son, that both of his parents had passed away, and that he now worked for a bank managing trusts of the deceased. Persephone told him about growing up as an only child with a single mother, how she didn’t know her father and didn’t care to know him, and how she wanted to be a landscape designer. It was a nice way to spend lunch, she admitted, but she couldn’t stop feeling a little throb of disappointment in her stomach whenever he smiled at her. She kept her ankles crossed tightly under her chair to resist the temptation to nudge a foot against his calves.  
  


Far too soon, Hades checked his watch and announced he had to return to work. Persephone walked out of the café with him, but from there they were going in opposite directions.  
  


“I really enjoyed spending time with you,” she said quickly. “I’d like to do it again, if we could?”  
  


“I would like that very much.” Hades gave her a half-smile that produced another yank in her gut. “We could do lunch again, if you’d like?”  
  


“That sounds great!” Persephone beamed. “Next week?” He looked caught off guard by this suggestion, but he was betrayed by a pale flush in his cheeks.  
  


“Next week would be fine. Same time, same place?”  
  


Persephone tilted her head coyly. “How about different time, same place?”  
  


“Oh?”  
  


“I’m free Tuesday, if you are?” The flicker of worry that had passed over his face vanished.  
  


“That sounds perfect,” he said. She noticed his arms twitch, and then he held out his hand. “Until then.”  
  


Suppressing a giggle, she shook his hand. His grip was firm and warm, and she could feel soft calluses on his palm. “See you then.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dionysus shared a flat permanently with Hermes, and unofficially with half of their friend group. It was a draughty, sunny place above a retail space that had been a second-hand shop for high-end fashion, and then a Turkish restaurant, and then a piano bar which was now boarded up and vacant. It was less than ten minutes walking distance from the centre of town, and because of the fold out sofa and Dionysus’ own queen-sized bed, it was a handy half-way house to crash in whenever you were too drunk to walk and too poor to hail a cab. The windows rattled in the wind and the whole place smelled like pot, but that was a small price to pay at four in the morning when you had three inch heels on.  
  


Persephone went through the chipped navy blue door on the street, which was rarely locked during the day, and tramped up the narrow staircase to the front door.   
  


Dionysus raised his eyebrows at her when he opened the door. “Where have you been that you’ve got high heels and lipstick on in the middle of the day?”  
  


“Well, not all of us are… does that say ‘purr-fessional purr-crastinators’?” Persephone said, looking at his t-shirt.  
  


“It’s new.”  
  


“I thought you had like a hundred cat t-shirts.”  
  


“You can never have too many cat things, Persephone, god, do you ever even listen to me _at all_?” he groused, hustling her over to the table. One of the seats was already occupied by a whimsical looking girl with wispy blonde hair and wide eyes. She squealed loudly and threw herself at Persephone.  
  


“I haven’t seen you in ages!” she scolded, pouting as she clung to Persephone.  
  


“You’re the one who went away for a week!” Persephone said, smiling. She kissed the girl on the cheek. “How are you, Psyche?”  
  


“Good but I missed you!” Psyche released Persephone from her grasp and took her hands. “And it wasn’t just because I went away, it was before that, too!”  
  


Persephone shrugged awkwardly. “We keep missing each other, especially now that you’re all the way across town—”   
  


Dionysus interrupted her with a snort. “Looks like I’m not the only purr-crastinator around here.”  
  


“Oh, cram it, D,” Persephone said, sliding into a seat, Psyche still gripping her left hand. “You know as well as I do that Psyche is full-time at the beautician school now, anyway.”   
  


“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Do you want a drink or not?”  
  


When they were all settled, and Persephone had a tall glass of ginger beer in front of her, Dionysus turned to her. “But seriously, what do you want?”  
  


Persephone gave him a look of mock offence. “Why do I have to _want_ something to visit you?”  
  


“You don’t,” Dionysus said. “But you had that look when I opened the door.”  
  


“What _look_?”  
  


“The Please-Guru-Aid-This-Poor-Earth-Bound-Soul-on-the-Holy-Way-to-Enlightenment look.” Persephone scowled at him as Psyche giggled into her drink. Dionysus tipped a hand towards her. “Am I wrong?”  
  


“No,” Persephone grudgingly admitted. “But since Psyche’s here, I want her opinion, too.”  
  


“Ooo.” Psyche set down her glass and folded her hands on the table. “What’s it about?”  
  


“A boy,” Dionysus said before Persephone could say anything. “Or, in this case, a man.”  
  


“Ooo!”  
  


“I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of asking how you guessed that,” Persephone snapped. Dionysus, who was concentrating on trying to fish an ice cube out of his glass with a straw, merely shrugged. She turned to Psyche. “Anyway, since you weren’t there, let me catch you up.” She explained about how she had met Hades, and how she had just come from what she thought was a date. When she told them that he was married, Psyche gasped.   
  


“Does his wife know?” she asked, sounding enthralled.  
  


“Well, I assume she doesn’t.” Persephone grimaced. “I mean, he’s gotta be at least in his mid-thirties, and if his wife is the same age as him, well…” She shrugged. “Would you like it if you knew Eros had a friend that was a girl?”  
  


Psyche waved her hand dismissively. “He has lots of friends that are girls! Gosh mid-thirties.” She leaned closer to Persephone. “He really is a proper man then, isn’t he?”  
  


“Yes, and oh my god, you should see him though, he’s a total dreamboat,” Persephone gushed. “Like, you know that really classic tall dark and handsome look you get in all the bodice ripper period films? That’s what he looks like.”  
  


Psyche sighed dreamily. “He sounds sooo lovely. Are you seeing him again?”  
  


“Yeah, for lunch again on Tuesday.” Persephone bit her lip. “I mean, that’s okay, right? It’s totally not weird, we could totally just be friends.”  
  


Psyche was nodding fervently. “I mean, lots of our friends are guys, and that’s not weird at all.”  
  


“It’s not weird because her panties aren’t burning themselves off whenever we make eye contact with her,” Dionysus cut in. “I mean, I assume.” He shot Persephone a quizzical look.  
  


“You assume correct, Lord Binge-’n’-Barf.”  
  


“Well, I think you should keep seeing him,” Psyche said. “I mean, you don’t have to _do_ anything about a crush, and it probably is just a crush anyway, and it’ll go away soon enough, and until then, well, who says you _shouldn’t_ have something nice to look at over lunch?”  
  


“What do you think, D?” Persephone asked. “You’ve been quiet.”  
  


Dionysus was chasing another ice cube around his glass and didn’t answer at first. “Well,” he said finally, “I think no matter what Psyche says, everyone at this table knows exactly how good Sephie is at not trying to get whatever it is she wants. Which is to say, not at all, and that goes doubly so when there’s an opportunity to get laid.”  
  


Psyche fired up immediately. “That’s not true!” But Persephone groaned and put her head in her arms.  
  


“Yes it is, it totally is, oh god I already want to do the most obscene things to him and I’ve only seen him twice.”  
  


“Doesn’t mean you should stop seeing him,” Dionysus said, balancing an ice cube on the end of his straw. “Just don’t try and kid yourself about why you want to.” He tipped the ice into his mouth and crunched it in a way that made Psyche cringe.   
  


The conversation gradually turned to catching up with Psyche about her trip away with Eros, and Dionysus gossiping about the rest of the actors in his trope. It was getting near dinner time when Persephone finally left; Dionysus walked down to the street with her when she went.   
  


“You know what ’Polls would say, if he were here and not stuck in a lab cutting up bodies until six, Sephie?”  
  


Persephone wrapped her coat around her tightly. It was beginning to get truly cold now that the sun was sinking lower every minute. “What’s that, D?”  
  


“‘Know thyself’.” He flipped the tail of her scarf up in her face, ignoring her squeal. “Don’t go being a prat about this.”   
  


Persephone sighed, tucking her scarf under her collar. “I know.”  
  


Dionysus nodded, then pulled her into a hug. “See you tomorrow for drinks.”  
  


“See you.”  
  


And so the weeks slid past. Tuesday was not the last time Persephone saw Hades; far from it. It became a ritual to have lunch together on the days when Persephone wasn’t working, at the same time, at the same café. Despite the cautions of her close friends, Persephone felt like any sense she had during the rest of the week was dropped off at the door the moment she saw Hades. She knew she giggled too much at his jokes, and that she leaned too far across the table, and that she was picking her outfits with the same amount of deliberation she would before a romantic dinner date, but she didn’t care. It was hard to care, especially when Hades smiled at her, or spoke in a murmur so they had to lean together, or loosened his tie so she could see the smooth, pale skin under his collar.  
  


One afternoon, when they leaned in as Hades whispered something to her, an amused half smile on his lips, she could feel his warm breath on her skin. It sent a shiver down over her body. The tip of her tongue traced over her lips. Hades trailed off, and she heard him draw a sharp breath. Her heart was hammering against her chest. She could smell his cologne again, clean and musky, and she thought his eyes fluttered closed for a fraction of a second.  
  


There was a loud crash, and they jumped apart as if they had been scalded. Flustered, Persephone turned to see that one of the baristas had slipped and dropped several plates on the floor behind the counter. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat and glanced back at Hades. He was flushed, and quickly busied himself with the dregs of his coffee. With a start, Persephone noticed he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. How long had _that_ been going on?  
  


But there was no chance to ask him. He filled up every gap in conversation for the next ten minutes, at which point he noticed that it was the end of his lunch break. He hurried off with a scant goodbye, leaving Persephone still gathering up her handbag and feeling somewhat forlorn.   
  


For several days Persephone swung between anxious that Hades would blow her off and she would never see him again, furious that he had started flirting just as much as her, and guilty over the fact that she shouldn’t be doing this at all. She really couldn’t pass this off as innocent after what had happened, and part of her knew that if he wasn’t going to break it off it might be her moral duty to do so herself.  
  


Overriding all of this, though, was fierce curiosity. Why had he removed his wedding ring? She couldn’t remember not seeing it on his hand until now. And he had definitely been making a move to kiss her; if it had been anyone else she would have done it herself well before the stupid barista dropped the stupid plates, and they certainly wouldn’t have stopped for broken crockery.


	4. Chapter 4

The day they were next supposed to have lunch, Persephone was awake at eight in the morning, staring at the ceiling with an unpleasant gnawing in her stomach. She tried to go back to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, she started imaging Hades lying in bed next to her, his hand resting on her hip, the breath in his kisses hot against her lips and her jaw and her neck, and then she had to fluff up the bed covers and roll over to a cooler part of the mattress to try and stop herself sweating.  
  


At quarter to nine, her phone started to buzz. Frustrated, she fished it out from underneath her pillow. Her stomach dropped when she saw who was calling.  
  


Hades.  
  


Her finger slipped twice before she could answer. “H-Hello?”  
  


“Persephone?”  
  


“Hades?”  
  


“Yes.” Was she imagining things, or was there relief in his voice as well? “Listen, I know we’re supposed to meet for lunch today but—”  
  


“But you want to cancel,” she finished, sliding back under the covers. She bit her lip hard. She would not cry, this was for the best—  
  


“Ah, no, actually, I just wondered if we could change the plans slightly?”  
  


Persephone felt a fluttering kick start in her stomach. “Change them? Like how?”  
  


“Well, I have the day free,” he said, “and I wondered if we might… spend a little more time together?”  
  


Persephone resisted the urge to scream. Voice trembling, she said, “And how would you like to spend that time together?”  
  


“I was hoping I might be able to keep part of that a surprise, actually,” he said. “But we need to drive there, so why don’t I pick you up at nine?”  
  


That was far too soon. She knew she would never be ready in fifteen minutes, not when she would be a flailing wreck for at least ten of those minutes. “Can you make it nine thirty?”  
  


“You’re not still in bed, are you?” he asked slyly.  
  


“N-No…”  
  


Hades chuckled. “All right, nine thirty it is. Where shall I pick you up from?”  
  


Persephone gave him her address, and directions to her house. She was still shaking as they said goodbye. When he hung up, her phone dropped from her hand. She threw herself onto her pillow and let loose a euphoric scream that turned into a laughing fit. He wanted to spend more time with her, he wanted to take her somewhere! It was almost too much for her to cope with.  
  


Next moment she bounded off her bed and threw her curtains open, letting in the golden sunlight of late autumn. She skipped through to the bathroom and washed herself quickly without bothering about her hair, took great care to get her makeup absolutely perfect, and then it was back to her bedroom with twenty minutes to put together an outfit. She wished she had asked what they would be doing. She didn’t want to be caught trekking up some trail in high heels, nor did she want to be overheating in a stuffy restaurant because she had worn too many layers. In the end, she remembered Apollo’s consummate fashion advice about keeping things simple, and selected a nice blouse and jacket with skinny jeans and practical but trendy boots.  
  


Perhaps it was a little optimistic of her to put on the carmine red bra with the black lace and matching underpants, but no-one had ever accused Persephone of being sensible.  
  


For once, she was early. When she got down to the front gate she saw that the street was quiet and Hades was nowhere in sight. Too excited to sit still, she perched on tiptoe on the back of the gate, staring down to the main road. She didn’t have to wait long before a sleek black car turned into the street and drove up alongside the pavement.  
  


Persephone jumped from the gate and met the car at the curb. It was a BMW, and even though she knew nothing about cars, she could see from the rounded bonnet and her reflection in the paint that this car was Fancy. Hades climbed out of the driver’s door and walked around to meet her.  
  


“Good morning,” he said breathlessly.  
  


“Morning.” Persephone grinned. He was wearing a navy pea coat with a chunky grey scarf around his neck. With a delicious shiver she realised that she hadn’t seen him in anything less formal than a suit and tie before. She was getting even more excited.  
  


Hades opened the passenger door for her. “Your chariot, my lady.”  
  


Persephone giggled and slid into the low seat. The inside of the car was even sleeker than the outside; all curves and soft blue lights. “You might want to take your coat off,” Hades said as he climbed back into his own seat. He was already shrugging his own coat off. “We have quite a drive and this car will keep us warm.”  
  


“Ooo.” Persephone pulled off her jacket. “Where are we going?”  
  


Hades was rolling back his shirt cuffs to his elbows. It was all Persephone could do to keep from jumping him then and there. “I thought it might be nice to do a day trip,” he said, the casual tone in his voice not entirely believable. “Do you like Aidonton much?”  
  


Persephone lit up. “Yeah! I’ve only got to go like twice cause Mama doesn’t like it much at all, but I kinda want to go to the technical college there. Is that where we’re going?”  
  


He smiled. “If you’d like.”  
  


“Yes very much!” Persephone bounced a little in her seat. Hades laughed.  
  


“Well that’s where we’ll go, then.”  
  


Aidonton was only an hour away by car, over a pass and down into a neighbouring valley. Persephone explained that she had been there once for a trip in high school, and once with Dionysus when his mother’s car had broken down and she needed a ride back home. Hades, it transpired, was there often for work. “But I don’t have any work today,” he said as they turned onto the highway. “This is just for leisure.”  
  


Persephone grinned. Her eyes traced down his bare forearms, the dark hairs that covered his skin glinting in the morning light. There was a slight tan line where his watch sat, but he was so pale it was hard to make out. The line where his wedding ring sat was clearer.  
  


He wasn’t wearing his wedding ring again.  
  


And again, Persephone’s stomach started to tug. What the hell was he playing at, anyway? She made like she was glancing out her window at the scenery, but she watched him out of the corner of her eye. “Hades?”  
  


“Yes?”  
  


She took a deep breath. “What’s your wife like?”  
  


It was the first time either of them had explicitly acknowledged his wife since he had first told her he was married. It was a subject they alluded to with trailed off sentences and significant expressions rather than words. When Hades answered Persephone could tell he was once again trying very hard to keep his voice casual. “She’s nice.”  
  


“What’s her name?” Out of the corner of her eye, Persephone saw his knuckles turning white as his hands gripped the steering wheel.  
  


“Minthe,” he said. “So, where else are you thinking about studying landscape design?”  
  


Persephone let the subject drop, and launched into a discussion about the various pros and cons of her study options. But she kept an eye on him as she talked, unable to stop herself wondering about Minthe.  
  


Eventually they lapsed into comfortable silence. Hades had been right about the car being warm: even without the heater on Persephone was positively cosy curled up in the passenger’s seat, basking in the sun. She watched the rugged countryside fly past, stripped bare for the coming winter, all dry grasses and craggy outcrops. She rested back in her seat as if she was napping, gazing at Hades as he drove. It didn’t look like he had shaved that morning, and rather than wearing a tie he had his shirt collar unbuttoned and resting open. Her fingers itched with the urge to run through his hair and press her face into his neck. Was she imagining the palpable tension in the air, or could Hades feel it, too?  
  


“Do you want to stop at the top of the pass?” Hades said some time later. “It’s just up here.”  
  


Persephone stretched in her seat. “Sure.”  
  


It was a bright, clear day, but it was much colder up here than in town. The frosty air filled Persephone’s lungs as she took a deep breath, gazing down into the valley. She could see Aidonton from where they stood, nestled low between high, imposing mountains.  
  


“You can see Pyreton from here, too,” Hades said, stepping up beside her.  
  


Persephone had heard of Pyreton, but she had never been there. “Where is it?”  
  


Hades pointed over her shoulder so she could look down his arm. He was so close. Persephone shivered. “Right there,” he said. “We could stop there for drinks on the way home, if you’d like?”  
  


“Yes!” Persephone smiled up at him, and received a faint smile in return.  
  


After some picture taking they climbed back into the car. The rest of the road was windy and rather than talk, Persephone focused on the scenery to keep from feeling nauseous. Just outside of town, the road levelled out onto a long, wide bridge.  
  


Hades glanced at her. “Do you hold your breath over bridges?” Persephone could not answer, as she was already holding her breath. He laughed. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. This is one of the longest bridges in the country.”  
  


Defeated, Persephone let out a rush of air from her lungs. “Why is it so big?”  
  


“Because it crosses the River Acheron,” he said. Persephone looked out at the swirling grey waters beneath them. “Several people died during its construction,” he added. Persephone shuddered and pulled away from the window.  
  


They arrived in Aidonton just after ten thirty, with a whole, glorious day of possibilities spread out before them. Persephone twirled on the spot while she waited for Hades to put his jacket and scarf back on and safely lock the car.  
  


“Where to, my lady?”  
  


They went almost everywhere Persephone could think of. They got coffee and walked through the pedestrian mall, wandered around the local market that was set up beside the lake, watched a street magician perform outside the gourmet pizza parlour where they had lunch, visited an amazing sweetshop where Persephone sampled a dozen different flavours of fudge, and she even dragged him into an arcade, where she discovered he was terrible _Dance Dance Revolution_ but surprisingly good at _Taiko Master_.  
  


The one thing he would not consent to was taking the cable cars up the mountainside to the famous Hidden Caves. “I don’t like heights,” he admitted reluctantly, his jaw tense. Persephone smiled kindly and looped her arm through his.  
  


“That’s okay, we can do something else.” She felt his shoulders drop at her touch, but the tension remained in his set jaw, a muscle in his cheek twitching gently.  
  


Something else turned out to be eating gelato. Hades insisted on paying for Persephone’s, and it took her almost ten minutes to decide on pomegranate flavour with dark chocolate. Hades ordered Rocky Road, and they sat on a bench by the lake to eat.  
  


“Is it good?” Hades asked her. Persephone nodded, her mouth full. Despite the cold morning the day had warmed up nicely, and she was licking quickly to keep from making a mess. He chuckled. “Here, there’s some on your cheek.” He handed her a napkin.  
  


She wiped her face. “How’s that?”  
  


“Lovely.” His smile was warm and wistful. Persephone’s heart started to hammer. He was close, closer than she remembered him ever being. She could hear his breath was quick and shallow, and she realised what he was going to do a split second before he did it.  
  


He kissed her, right on the corner of her mouth. It was soft and tentative, and Persephone felt like the ground had dropped out from under her. When he pulled away, he had a slight frown.  
  


“I’m sorry, that was very—”  
  


Persephone kissed him before he could finish. Everything else melted away until she was only distantly aware of their surroundings, of the laughing children and the runners and the slow rumble of traffic. When they drew apart, Hades was trembling.  
  


“Is this okay?” Persephone murmured. Hades nodded, his expression dazed, and kissed her again.  
  


Eventually they remembered that they had ice cream to finish. They sat with their hands clasped between them in silence. Persephone could feel her skin prickling all over with warmth.  
  


“We should get going.” Hades’ voice was hoarse. “I mean, if you still want to grab a drink in Pyreton before we leave?”  
  


Persephone felt an unpleasant lurch in her stomach. She didn’t want to go home. She wanted to stay here, with Hades, and not worry about anything else. “Yes, I do want to,” she said. She must have sounded flat, because Hades hesitated.  
  


“Are you all right?” he asked.  
  


“Are _you_?” she said, looking at him earnestly. He flushed under her gaze and glanced away.  
  


“I’ll… I don’t want to talk about it here,” he said quietly.  
  


Persephone had no option but to accept this. They threw away their napkins and walked back to the car hand in hand.  
  


Once they reached the car it only took ten minutes to leave Aidonton, cramped as it was, and reach the small village of Pyreton.  
  


“It’s a gold mining village,” Hades said as they drove down an avenue flanked by poplars dropping the last of their leaves. “They found gold in the River Phlegethon and the village developed from a mining camp.”  
  


“How do you know all this stuff?” Persephone asked.  
  


Hades coloured ever so slightly. “I like history.”  
  


The town looked like it had been virtually untouched since it had been settled. All the houses here were old fashioned weather board, or hunched up cottages made out of stone. The main street was narrow and picturesque, and all of the shop signs had been painted in an Old West font. It was a very tidy place. The river itself was wide and shallow, a contrast to the ferocious River Acheron. On the other side of the river from the town the mountains climbed steeply, covered with deciduous forest. The setting sun was casting vivid colouring over the trees reflected in the surface of the water.  
  


“Amazing,” Persephone breathed. “It looks like the whole thing’s on fire.”  
  


Hades linked his arm with hers, and led her to a small pub on the main street. It was almost deserted, but a fire was burning over a large hearth and there were beautiful views of the river. Persephone found them a seat beside the window while Hades got their drinks. When he returned, they sipped their drinks in silence, gazing out at the river meandering by.  
  


Hades cleared his throat. “I feel… I feel as if I haven’t been honest with you.”  
  


Persephone’s head snapped around to look at him. Hadn’t been honest? Surely he had been very honest, telling her he was married? Unless he wasn’t married? “Are you actually single?” she asked a little quickly.  
  


Hades smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, I was being truthful when I said I was married.”  
  


“Oh.” Persephone sunk back in her seat. “What is it, then?”  
  


“Ah, well.” Hades chuckled nervously. “I’m not quite sure where to begin…”  
  


“Just spit it out,” Persephone said, annoyed that he had come so close to making her dreams come true only to crush them.  
  


Hades pursed his lips. “I… Well. I’m thinking of leaving my wife.”  
  


_That_ got her attention. She sat forwards, her annoyance forgotten. “Really?”  
  


“Yes,” he said softly. “For a while, now.”  
  


Persephone swallowed hard, her mouth dry. “Since… since we met, or…?”  
  


“Before that,” Hades said, his voice barely a whisper. “We fought that night, actually, at the gala. That’s why I went outside.” He picked at a knot in the wooden top of the table. “But things have been bad for a while. At least, they have been for me.”  
  


“Oh?” Persephone hardly trusted herself to speak, nor did she want to stop Hades from confiding in her.  
  


“Yes,” he said. “Things have been… stale, I suppose. Occasionally we fight but mostly it’s just… the same thing, every day. Going through the motions with no real investment in why I’m bothering to go through them.”  
  


Persephone clenched the edge of her seat with her hands. “So then why are you still there?”  
  


Hades shrugged. “Habit. A stubborn sense of duty. And besides, it isn’t so bad.” He paused. “Or, I thought it wasn’t.”  
  


“What do you mean?”  
  


“Well, we live in a nice house, and a nice neighbourhood, and we have stable jobs.” He shot her a rueful smile. “The thing is, it’s a life you could get used to. It’s comfortable. And I’ve been telling myself that maybe this is just what marriage is, and I would do better to get used to it.”  
  


Persephone licked her lips. “But?”  
  


“But…” Hades gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks that if this is just what marriage is, then perhaps I don’t want to be married.”  
  


Persephone’s heart was aching in her chest. Despite his height, there had always been something a bit reserved and, well, small about Hades. Looking at him now, hunched over a drink and looking grey as the approaching winter, made her realise that it was because he had been carrying this weight around with him. She reached across the table and grabbed his hands. Her warm fingers closed around his slender, cold ones. “You have to do what’s best for you,” she said, her voice cracking. “Even if it means hurting other people.”  
  


Hades stared at her, his expression a mix of anguish and hope. “Yes?”  
  


“Yes,” she insisted. “You have to make your own health a priority.”  
  


He squeezed her hand gently. “I hope I can do that, then,” he murmured.  
  


The drive home was quiet. Persephone watched the stars wink into life above them when she wasn’t dozing, lulled by the smooth motion of the car and her own exhaustion. In a lucid dream she wondered if she should be wishing on one of the stars, and what she should be wishing for. But it seemed childish compared to Hades’ current situation, like putting a sticking plaster on an open fracture.  
  


Too soon, Hades was pulling up alongside Persephone’s front gate. Petulance rose up in Persephone’s chest. Why should she have to get out of the car? She didn’t want to, nor did she want to get into her own, Hades-less bed. She wanted to run away with him, back to Aidonton maybe, or somewhere even further, where it could be just the two of them for the rest of her life.  
  


Hades cut the ignition. “I enjoyed our time today,” he said. His voice was broken and weary. “I hope I can see you again soon?”  
  


“Yes,” Persephone said fiercely. “I’m going to be there at lunchtime on Tuesday and if you don’t meet me there’ll be hell to pay.”  
  


Hades looked surprised by the sudden fire that was burning in her eyes, but Persephone didn’t care. She wanted him to know how intensely she wanted him to be hers, how she was aching for them to be together. He leaned over and kissed the tight crease between her eyebrows.  
  


“As you command, my lady,” he murmured. Before he could pull away, Persephone kissed him goodnight. It was a deep, desperate kiss; she tried to pour all of the longing she had been feeling for him over the past few weeks that was spilling over after what he had told her about his marriage. She wanted him to really feel something, anything to take away how heavy and small and broken he had looked when he had confided in her. The way he kissed her back was submissive and wanting; he clutched one of her hands in his so tightly her fingers started to go numb.  
  


When they broke apart they were both panting. Hades looked as if he was about to say something, the words right on his lips, when he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Goodnight, Persephone.”  
  


“Goodnight, Hades,” she returned through clenched teeth. She slipped out of the car, away from him and the magic of their perfect day. She stood at the gate and watched him drive off; she could see his break lights, and then his indicator, and then he passed under the street lamps on the corner as he turned onto the main road, and then…  
  


He was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Developments such as these needed to be shared as soon as possible. Fortunately Dionysus still held parties every weekend, so Persephone didn’t have to wait long for the chance.  
  


“I need to talk to you,” she told him once everything was well underway and there were enough people around that two wouldn’t be missed. Dionysus took one look at her expression and lead her wordlessly into his room, closing the door behind them. He set his large glass of pinot noir down on a small table and settled into a squat armchair he had covered in a rather ugly leopard print blanket. Bonnie, a Bengal cat Dionysus treated like his over-indulged child, slipped out of her basket and jumped into his lap. Persephone sat cross-legged on the end of his bed, tucking her feet under the tiger print blanket he had thrown over his duvet. In the ghoulish purple and green light from his lava lamps, stroking his cat and sipping his wine, Persephone thought he looked like some kind of tacky shaman.  
  


“So what do you need to talk about?” he drawled.  
  


Persephone took a drink from the raspberry and vodka she had clutched in her hand. “Okay, well,” she said, feeling steeled by the alcohol, “I kinda made out with Hades a bit.”  
  


There was a pause. “Whoops,” Dionysus said.  
  


“Yeah, pretty much.”  
  


“So how did that happen?”  
  


Persephone launched into a long-winded recollection of the development of her relationship with Hades, the almost kiss and everything that had happened during the day trip to Aidonton. “And then he tells me… well, okay, I’m paraphrasing here and I don’t think I can give details, but basically he isn’t happy with his wife and he wants to leave her.”  
  


Dionysus whistled. “And you’re the reason?”  
  


“No, that’s the thing!” she said. “He said that he’s been unhappy and thinking about leaving since before we even met!”  
  


“Mmm.” Dionysus sipped his wine. “Sounds like you might still be a bit of a catalyst, though.”  
  


“See, that’s what I was thinking too,” Persephone said, worrying at her lip. “I mean, it’s definitely bad if we keep this up, isn’t it? Like, really bad.”  
  


“Like, really, really bad,” Dionysus agreed. He took another drink. “What does he want you to do?”  
  


“I don’t know, I didn’t ask yesterday.”  
  


“And when are you seeing him again?”  
  


“Tuesday.”  
  


Dionysus focused on scratching behind Bonnie’s ears as he thought. “You should probably wait ’til then to make a decision really.”  
  


“Well, duh, I’m not going to just drop him without any notice,” Persephone said. “But I don’t even know what _I_ think, I’m so messed up about this.”  
  


“How do you feel about it then?”  
  


Persephone groaned and flopped back on a pile of cushions. “I don’t _know_ ,” she whined. “Like I wanna do him sixty ways to Sunday and run off into the sunset together.”  
  


“I mean there’s nothing wrong with that plan really,” Dionysus said. “You just have a few hurdles in the way.”  
  


Persephone snorted. “Yeah, a _few_ ,” she spat. “Like his wife, his job, his house, _my mother_.”  
  


“Haha, oh my god, I hadn’t even thought about your mother. She’s gonna flip her shit when she finds out you’re hooking up with an older dude, let alone a married one.”  
  


“I’m glad someone could forget,” Persephone said darkly. “I can hear her now: ‘You’re too old for me to ground you or stop you from seeing him, Kore’,” she said, in an uncanny impression of her mother’s self-righteous tone, “‘but I really don’t think this is appropriate, especially when you should be starting to focus on getting your qualifications, you can’t work here forever, have you even looked at the enrolment packets we got you?’”  
  


“She’ll have your guts for garters.”  
  


“To say the least.”  
  


They both lapsed into silence only broken by Bonnie’s lusty purring.  
  


“I think,” Dionysus said, scratching aggressively under the cat’s chin, “that you have to work out if you can bang him with the knowledge that you’re doing something skeevy.”  
  


As much as Persephone wanted Hades all for herself, her mother had raised her to be empathic and selfless. Especially now that the wife had a name, she was starting to get a needling feeling of shame up the back of her neck whenever she thought about Hades. “God, it really would be just the worst of me, wouldn’t it?” she said. “But it’s haaaaaaard.”  
  


“On a scale of Peirithoos to Adonis, how much do you wanna tap that?”  
  


Persephone gave a hollow laugh. “He’s broken the scale,” she said. “Like, we would have to calibrate a whole new scale for him to even rate.”  
  


Dionysus raised his eyebrows. “You’re not making this any easier on yourself, are you?”  
  


“Not really, no.”  
  


“You’re probably best to just wait,” he said. “I know you give Hermes a run for his money when it comes to being impatient, but it’s not like you can call him at home when he’s probably…”  
  


“In bed with her?” Persephone grimaced. “Yeah.”  
  


The two days she had to wait went by excruciatingly slowly. Spurred by the imagined ministrations of her mother, Persephone tried to spend some time the next day looking into where she could study landscape design. She had a nice nest egg in her savings account thanks to her part-time work, put away for the purpose of avoiding as much debt as she could, but she was still torn on how to go about it. There was always the option of staying at home with her mother and studying at the local technical college. Her friends were here, her family was here, and she would be able to save on living costs. But she kept shrinking back from the idea like it was a hot iron. She had lived her whole life here. She still slept in the same bedroom she had when she was nine. This was a chance to branch out and explore.  
  


That idea, however, made her even more nervous. True, she was generally good at risk-taking, but she liked where she lived and she liked having her friends so close. And at the end of the day, moving would eat up more of her precious savings. Frustrated with her inability to commit one way or the other, she snapped her laptop shut and went back to avoiding the problem completely.  
  


Tuesday morning she awoke with her stomach twisting into nervous knots. She was just barely able to choke down some breakfast. During the trip into town she began to regret it; her nerves along with the stuffy interior and rocking motions of the bus started to make her feel quite green. She got off one stop early, and took a couple of minutes crouched against a shop window with her head in her hands to shake the nausea.  
  


Hades was, of course, already waiting for her. He looked paler than usual, and the smile he greeted her with was tight. They placed their orders and took their usual seat by the window without saying anything to each other. Persephone picked at her quiche with her fork. She knew if she spoke first she was likely to say the worst thing possible.  
  


“So.” Hades cleared his throat. “I’ve, ah, been wanting to talk to you.”  
  


“Yes.” Persephone put her fork down on her plate. “So have I.”  
  


“Well… would you like to go first?” he said. Persephone shook her head vigorously.  
  


“What I have to say is gonna depend on what you say.”  
  


Hades looked taken aback by this. He licked his lips and cleared his throat again. “Well, all right.” He fiddled with the cuff of his suit jacket. “I… well, I’ve been doing some thinking over the last few days, of course, and, ah, well.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve decided that I need to leave my wife.” All Persephone could do was stare at him, her eyes wide. Hades waited several long moments for a response before he said, “So that’s all I wanted to say.”  
  


Persephone shook herself out of her shock. “Are you—Are you serious?” she said in a low whisper. He nodded slowly. “Oh my god.” Persephone grasped the edge of the table. “Wait, like, for real? When are you going to do it?”  
  


“I’m not sure yet,” Hades said, looking down at his coffee. “There’s a lot to try and organise before I even… There’s a lot to organise.”  
  


Persephone sat back in her seat, her mind reeling. This changed things. “You’re not… You’re not leaving her to be with me, are you?”  
  


Hades shook his head. “I’ve been unhappy for a while. One of my close friends has been trying to, ah, convince me that this is what I need to do for some months.”  
  


“Damn.”  
  


“Is that—what is it that you wanted to say?”  
  


Persephone pursed her lips and didn’t press the sudden change of tack. “I wanted to talk a bit more about us,” she said quietly.  
  


“Yes?” Hades looked at her hopefully. “I mean, that has been on my mind as well.”  
  


“Yeah…” Persephone sighed. “Okay, look. I like, really like you, Hades. Like, so, so much. You’re so sweet to me and I love how you make me feel so giddy and happy.”  
  


Hades’ expression lit up. “I feel that way, too.”  
  


Persephone winced. “It’s just… I was going to say that I don’t know if I can keep seeing you if you’re still married.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I just… It’s wrong, isn’t it? To ask you to lie to someone like that.”  
  


Hades was looking at her so intensely it made her flush and look away. “Persephone,” he said, so quietly she hardly heard him, “I want to be with you.”  
  


“What? Hades you can’t—”  
  


“Yes, I can,” he said fiercely. “You’ve brought me so much happiness and warmth in such a short time. Getting to know you has made me realise how miserable I’ve really been. I can’t… I can’t _live_ like this anymore. I can’t keep pretending that I want to try and work on my marriage when I already know that even the best outcome means I still won’t be as happy as I am right now, talking to you.”  
  


“You can’t know that, you don’t know what might happen,” Persephone protested. She took a deep breath, bracing herself to voice her greatest fear. “What if all you’re doing is chasing a fantasy?”  
  


Hades clenched his jaw. “Perhaps I am,” he said. “But what I know for certain is that I’ve been happier with you these last couple of months than I ever have been in my marriage.”  
  


Persephone felt herself blush from her neck all the way up to the roots of her hair. “Hades…”  
  


“I mean it,” he said, taking her hands. “I… I do understand if you don’t want to be involved with me right now,” he continued, “if it’s too much of a burden for you, then that’s understandable. But it isn’t going to stop me from leaving her.”  
  


His jaw was set, and the lines across his brow were deep with determination. Persephone’s nausea was back. The way he was talking made her believe that anything was possible for them. She remembered how desperately they had kissed goodbye in the car, how even now the memory made her ache with wanting him. What she wanted to do was shove the table out from between them, climb into his lap, and kiss him hard and deep in front of everyone.  
  


What she did was close her eyes and rest her forehead on their clasped hands. “I don’t want to stop seeing you,” she said, her voice trembling.  
  


“Then keep seeing me,” Hades said fervently. “We’ll be careful, and organising a separation won’t take long. Even if we only spend three weeks together, even if she finds out, even if it all goes to Hell in a handbasket, for me it will be worth it.”  
  


Persephone looked up at him in the eye. “It will be worth it for me, too,” she admitted weakly.  
  


Hades gave a shuddering sigh. His shoulders dropped and his tight grasp on her hands loosened. “May I kiss you?”  
  


Elation rushed through her body. “You may,” she said, smiling in spite of everything.  
  


The rest of the lunch there was a nervous, excited buzz between them. They didn’t speak much, but whenever they caught each other’s gazes, a glimmer would light in Hades’ eye, and Persephone couldn’t resist giving him a small, knowing smile in return.  
  


As they were leaving, Hades touched her elbow. “There was one thing I wanted to ask you.”  
  


Persephone took a moment to respond as she was stuffing the tails of her scarf down the front of her coat. “Yeah?”  
  


“I’d, ah, like to make dinner for you,” he said. “I enjoy cooking quite a lot and I would really like to have the chance to do something like that for you.”  
  


Persephone was grinning. “I would love that! How and when and where?”  
  


“Er, with cooking utensils, usually,” he said. “And I was thinking the Saturday after next?” He hesitated. “At my house?”  
  


Persephone blinked at him. “Will that be okay?”  
  


“Yes, she—I, ah, have the house to myself for a few days,” Hades said, flushing slightly. “I can pick you up, if that works for you?”  
  


“It does.” Persephone held the door open for them and they stepped out onto the pavement. “I’m rostered on Tuesday to Saturday next week, so I’ll let you know when I get home from work?”  
  


“Sounds perfect,” Hades said, looking relieved. He looked at her a moment, and then leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Until then, my lady.”  
  


Psyche was ecstatic over this development. “He wants to cook for you! Oh my gosh that’s so adorable I wanna puke. What do you think he’ll make? Does he know what your favourite foods are? What about dessert? Did he say whether he would make something for dessert? Oh gosh and you’re going to his house too are you nervous? Do you think he’ll ask you to stay the night? You should wear nice underwear in case he does!” And then, when she had finally exhausted that avenue of discussion, “Are you really okay with this? I mean, you were kinda torn about everything that happened last week.”  
  


Persephone leaned back against her pillows and stared at the ceiling. “It’s not ideal,” she said, “but at the same time, like… I’d rather be taking the risk with him than playing it safe and pining after him. He’ll probably dump me in like six months anyway.”  
  


Psyche sighed, a rush of static coming down the phone with it. “Do you really think so?”  
  


“No,” Persephone said, “and either way it doesn’t exactly justify it, does it?”  
  


“It sounds like you’ve both made the same choice, though,” Psyche said. “I mean, wasn’t that what you were hoping for anyway?”  
  


“I know, I know, I’m morally bankrupt and I’ll probably pay for it,” Persephone replied, more flippant than she felt. “Just do me a favour and keep it on the d-low? I’m serious, don’t even tell Eros.”  
  


“I swear I will not breathe a word,” Psyche said faithfully.  
  


Dionysus responded with his usual bluntness. “Just don’t get your hopes up.”  
  


Persephone paused, glass of wine halfway to her mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  


“Exactly what it sounds like.” He shrugged. “If it were me I wouldn’t believe he was gonna chuck the wife until it was done and dusted.”  
  


Persephone winced. “Fair.”  
  


“If he’s willing to schtup you, though, you might as well enjoy the ride.”  
  


“How wise.”  
  


“Hey, you’re the one who asked the guru. OI!”  
  


Persephone jumped, slopping wine down her chin. “Wh-What?!”  
  


“That bloody cat,” Dionysus said, getting to his feet, “has got in behind the TV with the cords again.” Bonnie was extracted from behind the tight space between the cabinet and the wall with much yowling. “Stupid baby,” he said, holding her above him and making kissy faces. “You can’t chew on those, you’ll zap yourself.”  
  


Persephone, who didn’t think this merited causing her to spill wine on herself, ignored Bonnie for the rest of her visit.


	6. Chapter 6

It was just as well she was working the day of the dinner, because it gave her something to focus on. She had only seen Hades once since he had asked her if she’d like to come over, and that was a little over a week ago now—he had cancelled the lunch they were supposed to have earlier in the week. This had given her more than enough time to stress about what his motivation for cancelling lunch had been and picking over every aspect of the short conversation they had had with Psyche.  
  


When she finished work for the day, she had a new text from Hades. Heart pounding and hoping it wasn’t another cancellation, she opened it.  
  


_I’m really looking forwards to this evening_ , it said. _I have picked out something I hope that you will love_.  
  


Persephone felt like she was floating the whole way home.  
  


It took her over an hour to decide what to wear. Half of her wardrobe ended up piled on her bed. Eventually she settled on a red bodycon dress, reasoning (as she had when she bought it) that the modest sleeves would probably balance out the revealing neckline. She had just finished choosing which shoes would work best when she received a text from Hades saying he was on the way.   
  


Swearing, Persephone started throwing things into her handbag. As she was zipping it closed, she caught sight of her open underwear drawer. She bit her lip, then made her decision. She grabbed a negligee out of the overflowing drawer and folded it into a tiny pocket in her bag.  
  


She ran two at a time down the stairs, primping and trying to close her jacket as she went. Her mother was at the bottom of the stairs, a basket full of clean laundry in her arms.  
  


“And where are you going, Kore?” she said.  
  


“I’m going out with my friends!” Persephone responded in a carefully breezy voice. It was technically true. Hades was a friend. “I told you earlier in the week, remember?”  
  


“No, but I trust you.” Demeter kissed her forehead. “Will you be back tonight or in the morning?”  
  


“Ahh, dunno yet,” Persephone said, trying to shake a creeping feeling of guilt. “I’ll text you.”  
  


“Good.” Demeter set the washing down and hugged her tightly. “I love you. Look after yourself.”  
  


“You too and I will!” Persephone said, fussing with her hair as she skipped out the door.  
  


“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Demeter yelled after her.  
  


“That doesn’t narrow things down!” Persephone yelled back over her shoulder.  
  


She didn’t have to wait long, for which she was seriously grateful. It was freezing outside and the sheer pantyhose she had pulled on did nothing to keep her legs warm. When Hades had parked she slid into the passenger side with an appreciative sigh.   
  


“Good evening,” he said with a smile.   
  


“Hey!” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ve been looking forwards to this all week, I hope you know.”  
  


“As have I,” Hades said, blushing. “I hope I’ve chosen something you will like for dinner.”  
  


Persephone wriggled in her seat to get comfortable. “What is it?”  
  


“No, no, you have to wait ’til we get there to find out.”   
  


Persephone huffed. “Spoil sport.”  
  


He paused. “How am I being a spoil sport if I don’t want to ruin a surprise?”  
  


“I don’t know,” she said, “you just are.” Hades shook his head with a nervous chuckle.   
  


Hades’ house was a narrow two-storey villa with a modest front yard. She clung to his arm as he lead her up to the front door, knocking her knees together with exaggerated shivers.   
  


“I hope it will be warm enough inside for you,” he smiled.   
  


It was definitely warm enough inside. The hall had a sombre feel from the dark wood and the fir green runner, but there was a fire burning in the open plan living and dining room. Persephone took a deep breath, savouring the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.  
  


“Man, whatever you’re cooking it smells amazing,” she sighed.   
  


“Thank you,” Hades said, taking her coat. “You look lovely.” Persephone swept her eyes over his rolled-up sleeve cuffs, open collar, and pressed trousers. She bit her lip.  
  


“So do you,” she said. She hesitated, and then rested her hands on his forearms. “You look really good.”  
  


She could see his pulse fluttering in his neck. Slowly, he touched his hands to her hips. Persephone ran her hands up to his shoulders, and kissed him. His hands tightened on her hips. She slipped her fingers up to his neck. She was about to run her fingertips in his hair when a sudden noise made her jump away.  
  


It took her a few seconds, heart racing, to work out that the noise had come from a dog bed by the fire that she hadn’t noticed before. A large black dog with tan markings was awake and looking at them, tail flicking back and forth. “Ooo!” Persephone stepped away from Hades. “This must be your baby.”  
  


“Ah, that’s Cerberus, yes.”  
  


“Can I pet him?” she asked, crouching down.  
  


“If you like,” Hades said hesitantly. “Sometimes he gets a bit jealous with strangers…” But the warning was for nought. Cerberus was already panting happily and had exposed his stomach to Persephone for better scratches.   
  


“What a good puppy!” she giggled. “You’re just a big goofy baby, aren’t you boy? Aren’t you?” She turned back to look at Hades. “Do you spoil him?”  
  


“My—I’ve been told I do, yes,” Hades said with a wry smile. Persephone did not miss the almost allusion to his wife. A chill ran through her. She stood, brushing off her hands.   
  


“Dinner, then?”   
  


For all his talk about keeping things a surprise, Hades proudly showed her everything he had in the oven.   
  


“I thought I’d do lemon roast chicken,” he said, “with plenty of vegetables, of course, since you said you’re practically vegetarian. There’s dessert too,” he added, “but that I really am keeping a surprise.”  
  


Dinner was as delicious as it smelled. Hades had perfected the art of roasting chicken without it coming out all dry and tough, and the vegetables melted in her mouth. She spent so much time shoveling down food she forgot to talk much.   
  


“I hope you still have room for dessert?” he said as he watched her pick out a third servings of potatoes.   
  


Persephone hesitated. “How big is dessert?”  
  


Hades laughed. “As small or as large as you’d like it to be.”  
  


“I do like large,” Persephone said coyly. Hades flushed instantly and cleared his throat.  
  


“Yes, well.” He quickly started clearing away dishes. There was a loud clatter as he dropped the serving spoon. Persephone jumped up to help.  
  


“Here, let me—”  
  


“No, you needn’t—”  
  


“Don’t be silly.”  
  


His hands were shaking. Persephone touched his left hand gently. “Are you okay?”  
  


He clenched his hand into a fist and flexed it open again. “I’m just nervous,” he said softly.  
  


“Why?” Persephone asked just as quietly. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped.  
  


“Because… I think you’re quite wonderful,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I… I do want this to work for us.”  
  


Persephone took a deep breath. “I want it to work too,” she said. “That’s why I’m here.”  
  


“Yes?”  
  


“Yes.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. He gasped when she did. “Do you know what I’d really like to do?”  
  


“What?” he asked, breathless.  
  


“Cuddle up on the couch with you and drink lots of wine.”  
  


He sighed. “That sounds perfect.”  
  


As she suspected, Hades relaxed considerably with a large glass of wine in his hand and a pretty girl curled up under his arm. For her part, Persephone found it strangely easy to talk at length with him. Granted, even with new people she never found it hard to talk, but there was something about Hades that made her feel compelled to tell him everything about herself she could think of. She wanted to tell him all about her high school football team, about each of her friends and how long she had known them, about her mother and all the ups and downs of their relationship, and, even more surprisingly, all of her fears and insecurities she usually pretended didn’t really exist. Hades, it seemed, was more than happy to listen. He hung on every word with a focused, trusting look that made her even more talkative.  
  


“I’m worried about I’m doing with my life,” she blurted out at one point.   
  


Hades paused in taking a drink and raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh?”  
  


“Yeah.” She sighed. “I mean, like, I know I want to study landscape design, and like, that’s why I’ve been working for the last few years, trying to save up money to do that.”  
  


“Which shows foresight on your part.”  
  


“Well, yeah.” Persephone bit her lip. “I mean, it was Mama’s idea really, and who can blame her, it’s not like she had a chance to put away much for me for study anyway, we were living hand to mouth for most of my childhood that I can remember.” She took a sip of her wine. “But also like. I still haven’t even decided where I want to go, and she’s starting to get on my case about it, like, to get enrolled for the next autumn semester, and that’s just seriously starting to scare me.”  
  


“Why is it scaring you?” Hades asked gently. “You’re a lovely, confident young woman.”  
  


Persephone smiled gratefully at him. “I think like… I don’t want to stay here. But it would be easier in so many ways to stay here.”  
  


“Why don’t you want to stay?” he said. “I can see why you would want to; don’t all of your friends live in town?”  
  


“That’s right,” Persephone nodded. “But the thing is… As much as I like living here, and as much as I like living with Mama and hanging out with people I’ve been friends with so long… I dunno, I don’t want to stay here forever, y’know?” She sighed. “I want to have an adventure, and live somewhere new and have a new life. Even if I just went to somewhere like Aidonton.”  
  


“You did enjoy our time there.”  
  


“I really did!” Persephone grasped his hand. “And the school there is actually really great, I’ve already looked into it.”  
  


“Then why don’t you go?” he said, squeezing her hand. “It sounds like you’ve already made that choice.”  
  


“Scared to, I guess. And it’s not a conversation I’m looking forwards to having with people.”  
  


“I’m sure they’ll understand.” When Persephone glanced away, Hades cupped her cheek in his hand. “I mean it. It’s your future you’re talking about. You have to make the decision that’s going to be best for you.”   
  


Persephone smiled weakly and touched her forehead against his. “I haven’t told anyone else I’m worried about this, okay?”  
  


“Oh really?”  
  


“Yeah.” She nudged her nose against his. “That means you’re special.”   
  


Her lips were brushing against his. She could feel each breath tickling her skin with the rise and fall of his chest.   
  


“Dessert.”  
  


Persephone blinked. “What?”   
  


“We have dessert still,” he said, sitting up.  
  


“Ah, right.” The moment was gone. She drained the last of her wine. “Do you want me to wait here and bring it out?”  
  


“Yes, actually. If you’re willing to wait, that is.”   
  


“Of course!” Persephone sat up very neatly, with her hands folded in her lap. “I will not move until you get back.”  
  


Which was a promise she intended to keep until she caught sight of the photo frames on the mantelpiece. She dug her nails into her palms. Hades was busy in the kitchen, and Cerberus was still sound asleep. She glanced over her shoulder. Convinced that it would be several minutes until Hades returned, she tiptoed over to peer at the photos.  
  


Both the mantelpiece and the frames were dusty. Here was Hades, slightly younger, with a girl that was undoubtedly his twin sister: they had the same thick eyebrows and affectionate smile. Pushed to the back was one of what she took to be Cerberus as a puppy. Heart pounding, she found one in a slightly tarnished silver frame that was clearly a wedding portrait. Hades could not have been very much older than she was now, in a tail suit like the one he had been wearing when she met him. The woman—there was no doubt it was Minthe—had dark, curly hair and sharp features. Her cheek bones were prominent and enviable. She made a beautiful bride, her left hand clutching Hades’ arm, rings sparkling on her finger.  
  


Persephone heard footsteps, and scuttled back to the couch.  
  


When Hades returned, it was with two large slices of tart covered with pomegranate seeds glittering like gems. “That looks amazing!” Persephone gasped, wide-eyed.  
  


“I hope so, I’ve never made it before.” He handed Persephone one plate and sat down beside her. “It’s supposed to have more chocolate on it, but I thought it might be too rich.”  
  


“I love pomegranate,” Persephone said, cutting off a bite with the side of her fork, “but Mama doesn’t buy it like, ever, cause she doesn’t like them.”  
  


“That’s a shame.”  
  


“I mean, they are kind of a total pain to eat.” Persephone tried some of the tart. “Oh my god.”  
  


“Good?”  
  


“So good, oh my god.” She cut off a much larger bite. “And you made this all yourself!”  
  


“Ah, yes, I mean, it didn’t take long, it was much easier than having to spend hours baking…”  
  


Persephone smiled. “You’re cute,” she said, and gave him a small peck on the lips.   
  


They ate until Persephone felt like her stomach was going to burst open. She leaned against Hades with a moan. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again.”  
  


Hades wrapped his arms arms around her. “Am I to take that to mean that you will be staying here forever?”  
  


“Yes, absolutely,” she said solemnly. “Which is lucky because this moment is perfect.” Hades went very quiet and still. Persephone craned her head back to look at him. “Are you okay?”  
  


“Yes, I just…” Hades frowned slightly. “Do you mean that?”  
  


“That this moment is perfect?” Persephone wriggled around to face him. “Well, yeah, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it.” Hades shook his head in disbelief. “What?”  
  


“Just… you,” he said. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”  
  


“Well, duh,” Persephone said grinning. “There’s only one of everyone.”  
  


The night wore on, and they cracked into a second bottle of wine. Hades put some music on, and at one point he pulled Persephone to her feet and slow danced around the room with her. Cerberus watched them, thumping his tail against the hearth rug expectantly. Persephone giggled into Hades’ shoulder.  
  


“It’s because he wants cuddles,” Hades murmured into her hair.   
  


“Mmm, what if I want to be selfish and keep all your cuddles for myself?” she said, clinging tighter to him. “So warm and lovely…”  
  


Hades slowed to a stop as the song finished. The carriage clock on the mantel chimed half past eleven. “It’s getting rather late,” he said quietly. “And I’m afraid I won’t be able to drive you home after that second bottle of wine.”  
  


“Oh woe,” Persephone sighed into his shoulder. “How long do you think it will take me to walk?”  
  


“There’s no need for that, I can call you a taxicab.”  
  


“Nah, I don’t have the money for a cab.”   
  


“That’s alright, I can spot you.” He paused. “Or…”  
  


“Hmm?” _Please ask_ , she thought furiously. _Please_.  
  


Hades brushed his hands down her arms and licked his lips. “It’s entirely up to you, of course, I understand completely if you wouldn’t be comfortable…”  
  


“Yes?” _Just fucking say it_.  
  


“We, ah, have a guest bedroom in the thi—what is it?”   
  


Persephone was scowling. “And what if I’d rather share with you?”  
  


Hades’ hands tightened on her shoulders. “I… didn’t think you’d want…”  
  


She stared at him. Then she grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him deep and fierce and angry. When she broke the kiss she stayed close, whispering so he could feel the breath of her words on his lips. “Ask me to stay,” she murmured, “and I will.”  
  


He gulped. “Would you like to stay the night, Persephone?”  
  


“Yes, you dork, of course I would.”


	7. Chapter 7

Being so close to Hades, with so little between them, was almost too much for Persephone to bear. She ran her fingers through his hair over and over as he kissed her neck, her collar bone, her chest. She arched her hips against his, eyes fluttering closed, her breath shallow. Hades clung to her like a drowned man to flotsam, feeling the way her shoulder blades jutted from her back and how her backside curved into her thighs. His fingertips dug into her skin as he thumbed the lace edge of her negligee. Persephone tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, drawing a moan from him that nearly made her fall apart.  
  


“Hades, Hades…” She panted his name over and over like a benediction, listening to his hard breathing as he licked and sucked at her neck. She ran one hand down his chest and over his stomach to tug at the drawstring of his pants. Hades jumped like her touch was scalding and grasped her wrist.  
  


“W-Wait.” He was trembling, his voice husky. “I-I…”  
  


Persephone kissed him tenderly. “What is it?”  
  


He swallowed hard. “I’m not… ready for this.”  
  


“What do you mean?”  
  


“I mean…” He pressed his face into her neck. “I’m sorry, this is difficult for me to say.”  
  


“That’s okay,” Persephone murmured, massaging his head gently. “Take your time.” His breathing started to calm the more she scratched her fingers through his hair.  
  


“I’m not someone who can… rush into this, I suppose,” he said eventually. “I like you tremendously, I’m just… not quite… there yet. With… with sex.”  
  


“Oh!” Persephone took her hand away from his waist. “Well that’s okay.”  
  


Hades hesitated. “Is it?”  
  


“Of course.” She cuddled closer to him, determined not to let him know that her heart was sinking. “You know I like you ‘tremendously’ as well. Especially because you use words like ‘tremendously’.”  
  


Hades groaned. “I’m sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t have used—”  
  


“No!” Persephone giggled. “I think it’s sweet.”  
  


He pressed his forehead against hers. “Do you?” he asked in a small voice.  
  


“I do, absolutely. Don’t ever stop.”  
  


He gave a shuddering sigh and pulled her closer. “Alright.”  
  


She began to kiss his neck softly as he stroked her hair. It was a tender action that lulled her closer to sleep.  
  


“…Persephone?”  
  


Hades voice, worn and cracked, whispered in her ear when she was right on the verge of sleep.  
  


“Mmm?”  
  


His arms tightened around her. He took so long to respond she nearly fell asleep before she heard his reply. “Sleep well, my love.”  
  


When Persephone awoke the next morning she was shivering. She opened her eyes blearily and looked over the other side of the bed. Hades was sitting upright, coffee in his hand and a newspaper open on his lap. “Good morning.”  
  


Her heart skipped in her chest. “Good morning.” She shuffled across the bed and snaked a hand over the top of his thigh. She heard him gasp at her touch. “I’m cold.”  
  


“Why don’t you take a look outside?” he said. Persephone frowned up at him. “Go on,” he said. “There’s a dressing gown you can use.” He nodded to the end of the bed. A navy blue dressing gown was in a pile next to Cerberus, who had curled up on Hades’ feet.   
  


Persephone tugged the dressing gown towards her and pulled it on. On tiptoe she stepped over to the window and looked outside.   
  


Everywhere she could see was blanketed in snow, piled half a foot deep. The world outside was still and quiet, the marl grey sky above already threatening more snow. She turned back to Hades. “Will you still be able to drive me home?”  
  


“Of course,” he said. “But first I think you should come back into bed and warm up.”  
  


Persephone smiled wickedly.  
  


Hades made brunch, and they spent the morning curled up together first in bed, and then on the couch. Persephone had slept well, but she still found herself dozing on his chest as he read his book, the regular beat of his heart in her ear.  
  


“I should really take you home,” he said eventually. Persephone raised her head to look at the clock on the mantel.  
  


“Oh jeeze,” she said. “I forgot to text Mama, too, she’s gonna flip…”  
  


But it was so hard to feel any urgency. They took another quarter of an hour to say goodbye at the door, cuddled close and exchanging deep, languid kisses. Persephone never wanted to let go of him, the way he threaded his long fingers in her hair and tipped her head back to kiss her lips was intoxicating.   
  


They didn’t speak on the ride home. Persephone gazed at Hades, drinking in the sight of him, trying to memorise every detail of his form each time he moved. When they stopped outside her gate she kissed him one last time.  
  


“Let me know when I can see you again,” she whispered.  
  


“Of course,” he said, eyelids fluttering closed.   
  


She stood in the snow and shivered, watching until he drove out of sight. When she traipsed into the house, freezing cold and looking wan, Demeter fell upon her, showering her with equal parts rebuke and ministrations.  
  


“No text, no calls, and I have no idea where exactly it is you went to!” she said. “Look at you, shivering in that outfit! You’ll be the death of me, you really will be.”  
  


“I didn’t know it was going to snow, Mama,” Persephone said shrugging off her coat.  
  


“Perhaps not, but then why didn’t you let me know where you were?” Demeter said sharply. “For all I knew you could have been snowed in, stuck in some grotty apartment down in the student area—”  
  


“I wasn’t,” Persephone said, placating. “I stayed at a friend’s house for the night, it was super warm.”  
  


“Dionysus’ again?” Demeter sniffed the sleeve of her dress. “If all of your clothes smell like pot again I’m not—”  
  


“No, no, it was a new friend’s place,” Persephone said. “Their place is much cleaner. Strict no getting high off your face policy.”  
  


“Well,” Demeter grumbled, “at least go upstairs and change into something warmer.”  
  


“Of course, Mama,” Persephone said, and gave Demeter a generous hug for good measure.  
  


It was like she had side-stepped and slipped into a waking dream. Her meetings with Hades became more intense, more secretive, as winter hardened around them. Minthe was a manager at her company, she travelled often for work; Hades, sick of spending long cold nights alone stole Persephone into his house more and more. Persephone couldn’t ever remember wanting someone so much. She burned all over when he touched her, his kisses became like brand marks on her skin. When they did fuck, a mere fortnight after their first night together, they were both panting and desperate, and left marks on each other’s skin. The idea that they were doing something that they shouldn’t be doing, that they were sneaking around and lying, just made Persephone want him even more. Then they would lie tangled naked together, a sweaty mess of limbs and knotted hair, and run their hands over each other until they started all over again.  
  


One afternoon as they lay like this, Persephone studying Hades’ features up close, he tipped his head up towards her. “Can I tell you something?” he muttered.  
  


Persephone, who had thought he was napping, shifted to look him in the eye. “Sure.”  
  


“I don’t think I got married for a good reason.”  
  


Persephone felt like her heart was in her throat. “Oh?”  
  


He shook his head, eyes closed. “It just seemed the logical step to take. We were already living together and engagement was the next step up from that.”  
  


Persephone hesitated. “Are you saying you didn’t love her?”  
  


“No,” Hades said. “I did love her. I just don’t think I loved her enough to justify marrying her.”  
  


Persephone’s mouth went dry. “You need to leave her,” she said as steady as she could.  
  


“I know,” Hades replied. “Soon. It will be soon.”  
  


But when was soon? Persephone couldn’t even bring herself to ask for Psyche or Dionysus’ help on this; she knew Psyche would invent a hundred and one excuses because Persephone was clearly so smitten while Dionysus would raise an eyebrow and get the same glint in his eye that he did whenever her ex-turned-stalker Peirithoos was mentioned.   
  


“He probably has a lot to sort out,” she said to herself in the shower one day. “I bet there’s loads of hard adult stuff like mortgages and joint accounts to deal with.”  
  


She focused on other things, like her job and getting her application together for technical college. She cobbled together a portfolio, sketching and painting until her arms and shoulders ached. After her discussion with Hades, she knew that the right thing for her to do was to study out of town. She was even mostly sure that she wanted to go to Aidonton. But it was such an unpleasant conversation to try and have with Demeter, who continued to assume she was going to study locally at Olympus Tech, that she couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud, no matter how many times she practised them in front of a mirror.  
  


The longest night came and went. She spent it with her mother, lighting candles in their windows and drinking mulled wine. She went to bed early and slept in late, and almost forgot about Hades until she got a text from him early in the evening.  
  


_Are you free Wednesday evening? I will pick you up._   
  


Persephone hesitated. Lately, the tug in her gut had returned whenever she thought about Hades and his apparent unwillingness to break things off with his wife. She gave herself a shake and sent back _Yes. See you then._  
  


Wednesday evening came, and Persephone was twining her fingers in Hades’ hair as he pressed her down against the mattress. He groaned when she tugged at his lip with her teeth. He pushed harder between her thighs, making her gasp and tighten her ankles together on the small of his back. Shivering, he trailed kisses down her throat.  
  


“Persephone…” His voice was husky and strained. It sent a spike of pleasure through here. “God, I want you now.”  
  


She sighed hot against his skin as he ran his hands up her thighs and under her skirt. Despite her misgivings when she was alone, his mere presence was enough to drive them all out of her mind. When they were together the sensation of it all being a dream overtook her, stifled her, made her ache desperately for him.  
  


Suddenly, Hades stilled. He lifted her face from her breasts, a deep frown falling over his forehead. “What is it?” Persephone asked. Hades hushed her.  
  


There was the unmistakable sound of the front door banging closed.  
  


“Someone’s here.” Persephone thought her heart might have stopped. Hades scrambled back off the bed, hastily re-buckling his belt. “Get in the bathroom.”  
  


She didn’t need telling twice. Persephone rolled off the bed and darted into the en suite, pushing the door almost shut behind her. Hades straightened the covers on the bed and stepped out onto the landing. “Oh, hello, dear,” she heard him say rather loudly. “Back from the trip already? Is everything alright?”  
  


Then she heard a tinkling, feminine laugh. Persephone’s throat went dry.  
  


“Yes, I just forgot to grab something. Luckily they were happy to swing back here so I could pick it up before we left town.” And then she pushed her way into the room. Persephone reeled back from where she had been standing next to the door. She could feel the blood rushing through her, pounding every beat against her skin, so loud she was certain it would betray her presence.  
  


And yet. Persephone had never seen Minthe in person. She had seen the picture on the mantel, of course; the small, six-by-eight wedding photograph taken at least a decade ago, kept behind dusty glass. She knew that her hair was wiry from the hairbrush that sat on the dresser, and that her perfume smelled more like toothpaste than Yves Saint Laurent. But these were all just impressions; it was completely different from seeing someone living and breathing before you.  
  


Carefully, Persephone tiptoed back towards the door. She pressed her eye against the gap between the door and the frame, crouching to see under one of the hinges. It only gave her a sliver of a view, and anyway, Minthe had her back to the en suite door as she rummaged through a pile of books and papers on the table that sat under the window. Persephone bit her lip, waiting.  
  


“Oh, here it is.” Minthe turned, clutching a large leather document folder. Persephone sucked in a breath. She was gorgeous. Her dark brown hair was thick and curly, falling gracefully around her decolletage. Like her cheekbones, her shoulders and elbows and hips jutted out from her frame sharply, but rather than looking skeletal it made her look classically elegant. She was wearing silk that relaxed over her figure and nestled between her small breasts.  
  


Hades was leaning against the dresser. “That’s good. You’re really off now, then?”  
  


Minthe sighed. “I’m sorry about all of this, darling.” She stepped over to him and touched his cheek gently. “But this is going to be so good for me and the company.”  
  


“I understand,” Hades said. Persephone was surprised at how resigned he sounded. He leaned forwards and kissed her forehead gently. Persephone gritted her teeth.  
  


“I’ll try to be back before dinner tomorrow night,” Minthe said. She walked out of Persephone’s line of sight, but Hades turned to follow her.  
  


“Ah, darling?”   
  


“Yes?”  
  


“I’d, ah, like to have a chat with you this weekend, at some point.” He stepped closer, and Persephone could no longer see either of them. “It’s important.”  
  


Perhaps it was his tone, or maybe there was something in his expression that only Minthe could see. “Are you alright?”  
  


“Well…” Persephone held her breath, desperate to hear his next words. “I think we need to talk again about… about us.”  
  


“Oh.” There was a long pause. Persephone could feel the awkwardness drawing out between them like a bowstring. Minthe cleared her throat. “Yes, I think that’s probably best.”  
  


“All right.” Another pause, in which Persephone heard the sounds of a long goodbye kiss. Her chest burned with jealousy. That should be her. “Goodbye, Minthe,” Hades said solemnly.   
  


The sound of a peck on the cheek. “Goodbye, darling.”  
  


Persephone waited until his wife had descended the stairs and raced from the house, the front door banging closed behind her. She opened the door to the en suite, and saw Hades already halfway across the room to her. They stared at each other for several moments.  
  


“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “Obviously I didn’t know that would happen.”  
  


“Yeah.” Persephone nodded slowly. “She’s quite pretty,” she said lightly.   
  


“Mmm.” Hades stepped over to her, reaching out to rub her shoulder. “When I look at her I can almost understand why I loved her.”  
  


Persephone studied his face. “You’re really going to leave her, aren’t you?” she said, as if the knowledge was dawning on her for the first time.  
  


“Yes.” Hades touched his lips softly to the crown of Persephone’s head. “That’s why I’m going to talk to her this weekend.” He cupped Persephone’s face in his hands, thumbing one cheek softly. “Oh, Persephone,” he sighed against her lips. “You make me feel alive.”  
  


He dropped her off early the next morning, and then she didn’t hear from him again that week. The tugging anxiousness in her stomach became full-blown nausea. She lost her appetite entirely. Her mother fussed, and tried to make her eat, but Demeter always made rich, heavy food. Normally Persephone ate with complete abandon—she had been known to put away a family-sized vegetarian pizza on her own before—but all she could manage now was dry crackers spread with a little butter, and even those had to be forced down.   
  


Demeter, convinced she was ill, gave her the weekend off work and told her to spend it in bed. Persephone would have preferred to work. Even in winter she hated feeling sluggish and inactive, and she needed something to get her mind off Hades. As much as he kept insisting that he had been planning to leave his wife before he even met her, Persephone felt that she knew him well enough now to know that it was not entirely true. Even now, his reluctance to bite the bullet over the past few weeks belied the sense of duty he must still feel for his wife. _He’s such a goddamn martyr_ , she though, punching her pillow into a better shape, _he was going to just suck it up and stay with her. He said so himself._  
  


On Monday morning she was trying to choke down barley porridge under her mother’s watchful eye when her phone buzzed on the table. She opened the text without checking who it was from.  
  


_Tomorrow lunch? Same place, same time._   
  


Hades. Persephone felt a flash of annoyance that this was all he had sent after half a week of silence.   
  


“Who is it, Kore?” Demeter asked, noticing Persephone’s frown.  
  


Persephone swallowed a small mouthful before replying. “Just D checking up on me,” she lied easily. After typing out and deleting three different responses, she sent back a single word: _Sure_.  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is the equinox, the day I like to think that Persephone does the change over between Olympus and the Underworld in this day and age, so have a celebratory update!

The next day she was still feeling weak from lack of food and fractured sleep, but the sun was out, and riding a bus was easy enough. She took a seat by the window to soak in the pale mid-winter light.   
  


“Are you alright?” Hades asked when he saw her. Persephone nodded.  
  


“Just a stomach bug,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”  
  


“We can wait until you’re feeling better if you’d pre—”  
  


“No,” Persephone interrupted sharply. Hades started. She sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped. Just… still a bit tired is all.”  
  


Hades gave her a cautious smile. “That’s all right.” He placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked inside.  
  


Persephone decided she had better try to eat something. Hades glanced at her uneasily when she picked out two skinny pieces of biscotti rather than a generous slice of the raspberry cheesecake which was much more her style, but she ignored it. They took their usual seat, and Persephone started pouring sugar into her coffee.  
  


“How was your weekend?” Hades said in an artificially light voice.  
  


“I spent it all sick in bed,” Persephone said bluntly.  
  


Hades’ face fell. “I’m sorry to hear that.”  
  


“It happens. How was yours?”  
  


“Ah, well, there’s something I want to discuss with you actually.” He folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I… I told my wife that I’m leaving her.”  
  


Persephone dropped the spoon she was holding. It clattered to the floor, spraying milk over her front. “ _What_?”  
  


Hades smiled wryly. “Did you not think I would do it?”  
  


Persephone blushed. She ducked under the table to retrieve the spoon and avoid his penetrating gaze. When she reemerged he was cutting into his muffin and no longer looking at her. “You… You’re serious, aren’t you?”  
  


“Of course,” Hades said calmly. “I admit I should have done it some weeks ago, perhaps even before you and I met.” He sighed. “But then, there isn’t any use in crying over spilt milk.”  
  


Persephone was trying to dab her shirt dry with shaking hands. “Wh… What made you…?”  
  


“I, ah, felt it was prudent to try to avoid further situations like the one last week,” Hades said slowly, a light blush staining his cheeks.   
  


Persephone stared at him. How on earth could he be so calm about this? She was simultaneously overcome with a hunger to hear every minute detail about the discussion he had had with Minthe and an absolute revulsion at the same thought. She clutched her head in her hands and stared blankly into her coffee. “Persephone?” His voice sounded distant. “Are you alright, my love?”  
  


Her head snapped up. Tears were starting to drip down her cheeks. “You really did it, didn’t you?” Her voice was quavering. “You and I… we can… It can be the two of us, and we can—we can spend time together and I can introduce you to my friends and I can meet your sister and—”  
  


Hades smiled shyly. “If you’d like that, we can do that, yes.”  
  


Heedless of the fact that they were in a crowded café, Persephone launched herself into Hades’ arms with a loud sob. “Persephone!” She pressed her face into his shoulder and cried all over the delicate wool of his suit jacket. Hades pulled her onto his lap and held her tight around the waist. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, painfully conscious of how many people were staring at them.  
  


“Y-Yes!” Persephone sobbed. “I-I just can’t believe you actually did it!”  
  


The concern on Hades’ face melted into tenderness. “I couldn’t live like that anymore,” he said gently. “Do you understand how much you’ve helped me these last few months?” Persephone shook her head. Hades kissed her temple. “Well, it’s a lot,” he said, still glancing around self-consciously at the other patrons. “You’ve reminded me how happy I’ve been with people I’ve loved before, and what it is I want in a relationship.”  
  


Persephone sniffed and pulled back to look at him. “And what’s that?” she asked, wiping one cheek with the heel of her palm.  
  


Hades touched his forehead to hers. “I want to be in love,” he said softly. “I want to look at someone and remember every moment of every day why I’m with them. I want to be the best version of myself for them, not someone who’s complacent and resigned.”   
  


“A-And am I someone you feel like that about?”  
  


“Yes,” he said, his voice barely even a whisper. “You are, very much.”  
  


Persephone hiccoughed. “H-Hades I…”  
  


“Mmm?”  
  


Fresh tears were pouring down her face. “I think I’m in love with you.”  
  


Hades drew in a deep breath. His ice blue eyes glittered with tears in the winter light. “I think I’m in love with you too, Persephone.”  
  


In her rush to get to him, Persephone had slopped half her coffee over the small table. They tidied it up, and she ordered a new one. “I’ll pay,” Hades said. “It’s my fault you spilt the first one.” Persephone laughed for the first time in days.  
  


Hades told her his plans as they ate, how he had spoken to his lawyer already and had found an apartment he liked the look of.  
  


“I’m afraid it’s in Aidonton,” he said.   
  


Persephone gasped. “Okay, but that’s my first choice for where I wanna study!”  
  


Hades’ face lit up. “Is it really?”  
  


“Yes!” Persephone bounced in her seat. “I mean, I still won’t be starting there for like, a whole semester yet,” she added, “but that’s still so exciting!”  
  


“If we’re able to stay together that long, yes,” Hades said cautiously. Persephone grabbed his hand.  
  


“Do you want to try?” she asked. Hades looked at her like she was a light in the dark.  
  


“Yes,” he said. “I do.”  
  


Eventually, to Persephone’s great disappointment, Hades had to return to work. “What are you going to do about work, anyway? If the place you found is in Aidonton.”  
  


“I was thinking of commuting,” he said. “It really isn’t that far; there are people I work with who commute much farther.”   
  


“Man, that sounds like a drag though,” Persephone said, linking her arm through his as the pushed through cafe door. “Can’t you just stay at the house for now?”  
  


“I don’t think so, I—”  
  


“So,” said a sharp voice behind them, “this certainly explains things.”  
  


They whipped around. Standing in the middle of the pavement wearing a dark green coat and an expression like she had just eaten a lime was Minthe.  
  


“Hello,” Hades said coolly as Persephone’s fingers dug into his arm. “I thought I wouldn’t see you until we both got home this evening.”  
  


“You told me at the gala that you wanted to continue to work on our marriage,” Minthe said, ignoring Hades’ attempts at pleasantries. “You told me not three days ago that you were ‘just now’ ready to end things. Yet already you’re cosying up with some tart who looks about seventeen.”  
  


Persephone bristled. “I’m twenty three, actually.”  
  


“So not quite young enough to be his daughter,” Minthe said, her breath issuing as a frosty fog in the cold air. “But certainly young enough to be a niece, perhaps?”  
  


Hades touched Persephone’s arm and stepped in front of her. “We will talk about it this evening,” he said. “But for now I should be at work.” Persephone had never heard Hades use such a hard, indifferent tone. She bit her lip anxiously.  
  


“No, I think we should discuss it now,” Minthe said, her voice carrying over the lunchtime crowds. “About how you’ve been lying to me, and sneaking around behind my back, about how you lied to me when I asked you _yesterday_ if there was someone else, and _you told me no_.”  
  


Hades looked down at Persephone. “Leave,” he said urgently. “This is my mess to clean up.”  
  


Persephone hesitated, glancing between them. Minthe looked murderous. “But—”  
  


“Go!” Hades snarled. Persephone jumped back from him, alarmed, and then hurried off down the street without looking back.  
  


The shock of coming face to face with Minthe, after they had been so successful at evading her for so many weeks, had drained Persephone of the manic energy that had returned to her in the wake of Hades’ news. She huddled into the back seat of the bus, pressed up against the window, guilt chewing on her insides. Surely she should have stayed and faced her down with Hades? The lies were part hers, even if she had never known Minthe before. Surely she should have to face up to them as well?  
  


She bit her lip the whole way home. It was a bloody mess by the time she left the bus and was walking up her street. She pressed her thumbs against the wound and it stung as the salts and oils on her skin touched raw flesh. Tears sprung to her eyes. This whole thing was ridiculous.   
  


She kicked off her shoes when she got inside and leaned back against the door, the full-body exhaustion back. Dizzy, she wandered through to the lounge and collapsed onto the couch.   
  


The next thing she knew, her mother was shaking her awake. “Kore, are you alright?” Her mother’s cool palm touched her sweaty forehead.  
  


Persephone yawned hugely and she held her arm out for a hug. Demeter leaned down to wrap her arms around her daughter, still trying to feel for fever. “Mmm, Mama, I’m fine.” She pushed Demeter’s hand away gently. “I’m just warm cause of the coat.”  
  


“You’ve been so ill this week!” Demeter admonished. “Come here, let me look at you.”  
  


Shaking her head and feeling more bright eyed each moment, Persephone sat up and allowed her mother to poke, prod, and tug at her until she was satisfied her daughter was not dying. “Well it’s still very odd!” Demeter said defensively. “You need to eat something, Kore, you haven’t had a proper meal in days…”  
  


Persephone’s stomach growled in agreement. It appeared her appetite may have returned. “Mama,” Persephone said, grabbing Demeter’s arm. “Mama, I need to talk to you.”  
  


“Come through to the kitchen and we can talk while I make something for you to eat.”   
  


Persephone followed Demeter obediently. With each breath she was more awake and more alert than she had been in a week. She had known what she had to do the moment she had awoken.   
  


Demeter bustled about the kitchen. Before long a mug of hot chocolate sat in front of Persephone, with a steaming sponge pudding covered in honey. She took a long sip from her mug—it was sweet and milky, as she liked it—and waited for Demeter to finish putting together a casserole for their dinner.  
  


Finally, Demeter dropped into the seat next to Persephone, a mug of roasted barley tea in her hands. “You needed to talk to me.”  
  


“Yes.” Persephone swallowed a generous spoonful of pudding and steeled herself. She had to do it quick, like ripping off a sticking plaster. “I’m going to apply to Chthonic Tech in Aidonton.”  
  


Demeter tensed visibly. “Oh? As well as Olympus Tech?”  
  


“No,” Persephone said, “instead of Olympus Tech.”  
  


Demeter drew a sharp breath through her front teeth. “And when did you decide this?”  
  


“A few weeks ago.” She was determined to tell the entire truth. She had been avoiding it too long. “My application and my portfolio is all packed up and ready to be sent.”  
  


“I’m surprised you haven’t sent it already,” Demeter said, not without bitterness, “since you seem so determined to do whatever you like without letting me know.”  
  


“Well, I’m telling you now,” Persephone said. “That’s why I haven’t sent it away yet. I couldn’t bring myself to do it without talking to you first.”  
  


“You think anything I say will change your mind?” Demeter asked sharply.  
  


“No,” Persephone admitted. “But I didn’t want to sneak around behind your back, either. You’ve always done so much for me and I appreciate it so much. I felt terrible even thinking about not telling you.”  
  


“Hmm.” Demeter pursed her lips. “And where do you plan to live?”  
  


“On campus, for the first year, probably,” Persephone said. “After that, well… we’ll see. I’m going to apply for a scholarship, too. There’s a good one on their website for students from single-parent households.”   
  


Demeter sighed. “I suppose it isn’t entirely unexpected,” she said wearily. “My mother always threatened that if I had a daughter she would turn out just like me…”  
  


Persephone felt a swell of affection and love for her mother. Demeter had always worked so hard, for both of them, ever since she was nineteen. From what Persephone understood, Demeter had virtually turned her life a complete one-eighty when her daughter had been born. She had sacrificed so much of her life so that Persephone’s own life could be richer. “Not exactly like you,” Persephone said. “You scared me into being good years ago.”  
  


Demeter gave her a hard look. “I should think so,” she said. “No daughter of mine is going to be chain smoking out of her window at two in the morning on a school night.”  
  


Persephone giggled weakly. “Exactly.” She spooned more pudding into her mouth. “And you’re not selfish like I am.”  
  


“Oh, hush,” Demeter scoffed. “You may be spoilt, Kore, but I’ll be damned if you’re selfish.”  
  


Persephone felt her chest start to jitter like a rabbit’s. Hadn’t her behaviour in the last weeks proved that she wasn’t as selfless as her mother liked to think? “Mama, there’s something else…”  
  


Demeter squinted at her suspiciously. “You’re not going to tell me you’re pregnant, are you?”  
  


“No!” Persephone flushed. “No, not at all, I just… I’ve been seeing someone, actually.” Her chest was pounding harder. “Someone I really like.”  
  


“I see.” Demeter set her mug down and leaned closer to her daughter. “Is he trying to hurt you, Kore?”  
  


“No, Mama, I promise he’s always been really good to me.” She gripped her cup harder, drawing on the warmth. “He’s… He was married.”  
  


Demeter turned steely. “Persephone—”  
  


“No, listen, it’s… it’s not like that, it’s…” She paused. “Okay it… it was a little like that.” Persephone cringed. “We met at that thing we went to for Apollo a few months ago and it just… we hit it off, and we couldn’t stop seeing each other and it just… escalated…”  
  


Demeter sighed heavily. “Oh, Persephone,” she murmured. “I suppose this is why you’ve been so evasive about where you’ve been spending evenings and nights so often lately?”  
  


A blush rose into her cheeks. “I-I didn’t realise—”  
  


“That I knew you so well?” Demeter asked, eyebrows raised. “Give me a little credit, Kore. I know lying by omission when I hear it.”  
  


Persephone hung her head. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she said quietly. “I thought you would be angry…”  
  


“I’m certainly disappointed, but there’s no use crying over cut grass,” Demeter said briskly. “Out with it, then. Has he told you he’s leaving his wife for you?”  
  


“No,” Persephone said, fire beginning to burn in her. “He said he’s been unhappy for ages, that he only married her because he didn’t know what else to do.” She met her mother’s eyes steadily. “He’s leaving his wife for himself, not for me.”  
  


“Hmm.” Demeter was clearly unconvinced, but Persephone didn’t care. She had told her what she felt to be the truth. “It’s a little more honest than most, I’ll give you that, Kore. I just don’t want him trampling all over your heart and hopes if he decides to go back to his wife.”  
  


“I-I know.” Persephone glanced away. “But he’s his own person, I don’t… I don’t own him, and I don’t want to. But I don’t regret anything we’ve done.”  
  


“Nothing?”  
  


“Well…” Persephone looked back at her mother. “I regret all the lies and sneaking around. I really did think you would be furious.”  
  


“And why is that?”  
  


Persephone was cringing again. “He’s… He’s a bit older than me…”  
  


“A bit?”  
  


“He’s… thirty-ish…”  
  


“’Ish’?”  
  


“Maybe like… mid-thirties…” Persephone felt a panic in her as Demeter seemed to swell with indignation. “Please don’t be angry!” she said quickly. “He’s so nice and he’s so generous and he—he really likes me, he told me himself, and he treats me better than all my other partners did combined—”  
  


Demeter’s expression did not soften. “I can’t say I like it, Kore,” she said. “It’s telling that he’s latched onto someone so much younger than himself when he’s supposed to be going through a crisis.”  
  


“Meet him, then,” Persephone pleaded. “Just wait to see what he’s like with me, and then maybe that will change your mind.”  
  


“I doubt that very much, Kore.” Demeter sighed. “But thank you, all the same, for coming clean about all of this.” She reached across the table and grasped her daughter’s hand. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, petal.”  
  


“I know, Mama,” Persephone said softly. “But I’m allowed to go out into the world and make my own mistakes and learn that way, too.”  
  


Demeter nodded slowly. She let go of Persephone’s hand. “Finish your pudding.”  
  


Persephone ate dutifully, and drained her mug. Dinner was delicious, and she had three helpings with extra dumplings. She was crawling into bed, contented and full, when her phone rang. Languidly, she answered.  
  


“What are you doing calling me at this time on a school night?” she teased. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”  
  


“Hello to you too,” Hades replied. “I was about to get into bed when I thought I should give you a call. Given, ah, whom we ran into this afternoon.”  
  


The face-to-face encounter with Minthe seemed days ago now that Persephone had unburdened herself to her mother. With a guilty pang, she realised she hadn’t thought at all about how Hades had got on with his wife since her own afternoon nap. “Right, of course. I was wondering if you’d call.” It was technically true after all.  
  


If Hades noticed her bluff he didn’t mention it. “Yes, well. It’s rather grim, I’m afraid.”  
  


Persephone sat up straight, her contentment rapidly evaporating. “Is she forcing you not to see me?” she asked, her heart twisting in her chest.  
  


“She tried,” Hades said, unable to keep the sound of savage pride out of his voice, “but I as I am a grown man with no romantic attachments to her there was little she could do to sway me.”  
  


“But what about the divorce?” Persephone said. “Surely she’ll have the upper hand now, or something?”  
  


“I don’t care,” Hades said. “That’s what she didn’t understand, I think. Whatever we shared, she can have it.”  
  


“But you have a house!”  
  


“ _She_ has a house now,” he said. “She said that there was no question of me living there now. I’m staying with my sister.”  
  


“And Cerberus?”   
  


Hades chuckled. “He’s here too; Minthe never really liked him.” His voice went quiet for a moment. “Say hello, boy.” Persephone heard a friendly bark on the other end, and laughed in spite of everything. “It’s good to hear you laugh,” Hades said.   
  


“Does your sister mind him?”   
  


“No, Hestia has always been great with animals,” he said. “Unfortunately, she has a cat.” He said ‘cat’ in the same grave tone he would use to announce someone had tuberculosis.  
  


Persephone laughed again. “You don’t like cats at all, do you?”  
  


“No I do not,” Hades said irritably. “They’re evil, plotting creatures that are all claws and teeth and spittle. My sister’s little demon has already taken a swipe at poor Cerberus. He won’t leave the guest room without me.”  
  


When she finished giggling and Hades finished huffing indignantly at her, Persephone clenched her fist against her chest. “You’re not just putting on a brave face for me, are you?” She curled back against her pillows, tucking her feet under her blankets. “Because if you need to vent or unload or even cry, I want to be able to listen and help.”  
  


Hades hesitated. “I don’t want to put too much pressure on you.”  
  


“It isn’t pressure, I want to help,” she said. “You aren’t alone, is all.”  
  


“I know.” He sighed. “In all honesty it hasn’t quite sunk in yet. I’m sure when we’re a year down the track and still wrestling over the division of assets through our lawyers it will be a different story. But for now I think all I can do is go to bed.”  
  


“You don’t think it’ll take that long, do you?” Persephone bit her lip. What the hell had she helped him do?  
  


“Sometimes it may take years, yes,” Hades said calmly. “But I suppose it’s up to the people involved.”  
  


Persephone drew in a breath. “And… what do you think that’ll mean?”  
  


“Well, obviously, I want this taken care of as soon as possible. But if she wants to drag me along for months in a protracted revenge cycle, I can’t say that I haven’t deserved it.”   
  


“That’s not true,” Persephone said fiercely. “You didn’t love her any more, the marriage was already dead you told me.”  
  


“And it was true, to me,” Hades said softly. “But her truth regarding our relationship was different to mine. And regardless of that, I have committed adultery and outright lied to her face. She has a right to seek reparation, or revenge, if she wishes.”  
  


“If it were her I’d go after the other woman,” Persephone said quietly.  
  


“…Oh?”  
  


“Yeah.” Persephone twisted her hand in her bed covers. “I would want to crush her into the dust.”  
  


“Well, ah... Hopefully she is content enough to leave you alone?”  
  


“Mmm.” Persephone gave a little shudder. Now was not the time. “So,” she said, trying for a brighter tone, “how would you like to come and meet my friends?”  
  


“Ah, yes. Are you sure I hadn’t better meet your mother first?”  
  


“No,” Persephone said quickly. “My friends are far more likely to accept you.”  
  


“Oh, joy,” he said dryly.   
  


She giggled. “Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you if I’m there. I’ll make Dionysus and Artemis swear not to rip you limb from limb.”  
  


“What charming people your friends must be.”  
  


They talked for so long Persephone felt her voice beginning to fade from tiredness. “I don’t want to hang up,” she confessed.  
  


“You have to,” Hades said with a yawn. “I have work tomorrow, and the drive takes longer from here than it did.”  
  


Persephone pulled her bed covers up to her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said. “If it weren’t for me—”  
  


“Don’t,” Hades said firmly. “If it weren’t you, it would be someone or something else. And there’s no-one else I’d want, in any case.”  
  


Warmth flowed through her as she burrowed under the covers. Maybe it was wrong of her, to love him as completely as she did, hasty and insensible. “I love you,” she said.  
  


She could hear the smile in his voice when he replied. “And I love you as well, dearest one.”


	9. Epilogue

“Well, Sephie,” Dionysus said, tipping the last of a bottle of wine into her glass, “I can’t say I agree with his opinions about pinot gris, but I guess not everyone’s perfect.”   
  


Persephone smiled. “High praise indeed.”  
  


“I mean he does seem to agree with my policy on Apollo’s poetry readings, so he can’t be all bad.”  
  


The small flat was busy with people. Apollo was plucking absent-mindedly at a guitar as he watched Artemis destroy Hermes on _Tekken_. Terpsichore, Thalia, and Euterpe were dancing to the pop music blaring from Hermes’ iPod dock that he had attached to a Roomba. Urania was curled up in an armchair, her telescope propped up by an open window, scribbling notes on a star chart. Ganymede and Iris were playing an increasingly violent game of snap on the coffee table. Hades, easily the most out of place of all the company, was sitting on a barstool at the small kitchen counter across from Psyche, who was giving him the third degree and a manicure.  
  


“Do you think he’ll pass muster with Psyche?” Persephone said.   
  


Dionysus snorted. “I doubt it. He doesn’t look like the kind of person who likes unicorns.”  
  


“He doesn’t like cats, either,” Persephone said, the fact popping into her head for the first time.   
  


Dionysus sighed in frustration. “Just what is it you see in him, again?” he asked peevishly. “Honestly, you come into my house, you bring a cat hater, you drink all my wine—”  
  


Persephone punched his arm playfully. “Stop being such a big baby,” she said.   
  


“I take back everything good I might have ever implied about him,” Dionysus continued. “Only evil people hate cats.”  
  


Persephone rolled her eyes, but did not argue. However much he griped and whined, she could tell when Dionysus was full of it. Hades had barely been in the flat ten minutes before Dionysus had roped him into a deep and complex discussion about wine that had sailed completely over Persephone’s head. Dionysus had been so engrossed in the discussion he had forgotten his duties as a host until well after everyone else had arrived. “He treats me good, alright?”  
  


“Oh, well then, say no more,” Dionysus drawled. “I know Seph-code for ‘he’s got a big wang’ when I hear it.”  
  


“You’re such a twelve year old.”  
  


Dionysus grasped his chest in faux agony. “Her wit, it burns!”   
  


“Oh my god, shut up and go feed your cat before she starts stealing hors d’oeuvres again.”  
  


Dionysus snorted. “Yeah, not having to choke down Hermes’ hippie-dippie food platter to spare his feelings, wouldn’t that be a goddamn tragedy.” But he shuffled off to where Bonnie was sniffing curiously at the cucumber slices.   
  


Persephone made her way over to where Hades was still being interrogated. “It’s three in the morning and she calls you in tears,” Psyche was saying. “What do you do?”  
  


“Er, well, first I ask what’s wrong, and if she wants me to come over. And then if not, I talk to her until she feels happy going to sleep.”  
  


Psyche sighed. “Half credit.”  
  


“You’re supposed to ignore me if I say no and come over anyway,” Persephone said. Hades jumped.  
  


“But if you said not to—”  
  


Psyche tutted impatiently. “Yes, but what if she’s just saying that? It’s not worth the risk!”  
  


Persephone giggled at the bemused expression on Hades’ face. “How’s he going?” she asked Psyche.  
  


“Better than I expected!” she said. “Although his cuticles are in terrible shape.” She pushed forcefully at his pinkie nail with a rounded bamboo stick. Hades winced. Persephone scratched the back of his head lovingly.   
  


“Whatever you do, don’t let her see the state of the skin on your heels,” she teased.  
  


“That was one time!” Psyche protested. “And you said you _liked_ your heels being like baby skin!”  
  


“I’m only teasing, sweetheart,” Persephone smiled.   
  


Psyche huffed. “Tell him to let me paint his nails.”  
  


“Please don’t,” Hades said in the most polite voice he could manage.  
  


“I mean with nail strengthener!” Psyche said, holding up the bottle. “It’ll make your nails stronger and stop them breaking so much!”  
  


Persephone nudged his ribs as Hades looked up at her helplessly. Resigned, he turned back to Psyche. “Oh, go on then.” Triumphant, Psyche began to carefully cover his nails one by one in the clear polish.   
  


“You still wanna get out of here soon?” Persephone asked quietly.  
  


“Once your charming friend here has finished, ah, strengthening my nails, then yes.”  
  


“You’re leaving us already?” Psyche pouted.  
  


“I’m afraid so, yes,” Hades said.  
  


“Do you really think we’re that bad?”  
  


Persephone giggled as Hades glanced around the room. “Not at all,” he said. “This just isn’t quite, er, ‘my scene’, as it were.”  
  


Psyche started giggling with Persephone. “Wow, okay, you were right about the old fashioned talk being adorable.”  
  


Hades blushed furiously and kept his mouth shut.  
  


When they did leave, Psyche hugged them both. “You look after her,” she scowled as she pulled away from Hades. “Or I’ll beat you up.”  
  


Hades gave her a grave look. “I shall do my utmost to ensure her care.”  
  


Dionysus shook his hand. “Get her to tell you about the Fresher Fiasco.”  
  


“The… The what?”   
  


“She knows,” Dionysus said mysteriously as he hugged Persephone goodbye with one arm.  
  


And finally Persephone had him all to herself again as she skipped out into the night air.  
  


“Ah, darling?” Hades said carefully. “What did Dionysus mean by the Fresher Fiasco?”  
  


Persephone rolled her eyes. “He’s just being an over-protective butthole.”  
  


Hades mused on this for several moments. “I was unaware that buttholes had a protective function.”  
  


Persephone burst out with a manic laugh that was almost a screech. She grabbed his arm and clung to him tightly. “I love you,” she said, her face shining in the orange street lamps. Hades smiled back tenderly.   
  


“I love you as well,” he said. “Though I am quite sorry I have to take you back to a hotel room tonight.”  
  


“It’s fine,” Persephone said nuzzling his arm. “I can understand why she didn’t want you living there anymore.”  
  


“Yes,” Hades said, a little grimly. “My lawyer seems to think that I shouldn’t have allowed her to get the upper hand in the divorce, but given everything I’ve put her through I hardly think it would be fair to fleece her.”  
  


Persephone twined their fingers together. “Let’s not talk about that tonight,” she said. “Let’s just focus on us.”  
  


Hades stopped and looked down at Persephone. She looked back at him, drinking in the sight of his faint smile and bright eyes. “Then we shall,” he whispered, and kissed her.


End file.
